


Looking For a Heartbeat

by justreadingfics



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avenger Reader (Marvel), Break Up, Bucky Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky barnes x reader - Freeform, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Self-Hatred, Unplanned Pregnancy, future smut, romantic relationship between a therapist and an ex-patient
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-09-07 17:16:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 72,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16858072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justreadingfics/pseuds/justreadingfics
Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. Now,  it’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m ignoring Infinity War and other canon stuff here. IThe idea came from this anon request on my tumblr which has been waiting on my ask box since forever: Do you still do requests? I really want a story where the reader has F.R.I.D.A.Y. wake her up whenever Bucky has nightmares so she can calm him down and Steve finds out. I’m sorry, dear, for taking so long.  
> Two Ghosts by Harry Styles is an inspiration for the entire series. English isn't my first language.

“But… How long will you be out?” You fidget with your fingers on the table, before grabbing the cup of coffee and taking it to your lips to try and conceal your uneasiness.

“ I’m leaving in a few hours and it’ll be two or three days, tops.” Steve answers with a shrug, “Easy peazy,” He smiles, chewing the impressive amount of pancakes he has just filled his mouth with.

“If it´s so easy, why do you have to go?” You place your cup of coffee on the table again, with a little more force than necessary and his brows furrow at the act, which you deliberately ignore to continue questioning the man in front of you, “You can send anyone of us, instead. I can go, why don’t you send me?”

“Well, the fact I consider it easy, doesn´t mean it is to other people.” There´s not a trace of arrogance in his tone, only honesty and even a little bit of humility only Steve Rogers can pull off, which makes you sigh in defeat. “Besides, you’ve been here for what? One week after over two years away and already wanna leave again? What’s this really about, Y/n?” He points and shakes his fork at you, frowning questioningly.

“What, I can’t be worried about my workaholic and overloaded Captain, who deserves a break every once in a while?” You lie, grabbing some pancake from his plate with your own fork, hoping stealing his food would divert his focus.

He looks nothing but unconvinced, eyeing you suspiciously, “Not when I´m talking to the most workaholic person alive, and-“ before he could inquiry you further, you hear the door, catching his attention as well as he looks past your shoulder. You hold your breath upon the voice you hear. 

“Hey, Punk, you’re still here-” You don’t dare to turn around, but can picture the discomfort taking over his expression on finding you there, too.

At the silence that follows his entrance, you glance at Steve, returning his apologetic look with a sad smile, before the chair scratches against the floor with you standing up, “Stay safe, Steve.” You dismiss taking your dishes to the sink in favor of leaving the scene as soon as you can.

Bucky steps aside for you to pass through the opened door, answering your mumbled good morning with a slight nod, none of you daring to exchange glances. The door swings behind you as you force a steady pace to get to you have no idea where.

It’s been like this ever since your return. Awkward, uncomfortable, silent, painful…You thought two years would make it better, would erase everything which had devastated your life together, or the life you thought you had together and you could, at least, have some cordial or even a friendly relationship. But it hasn’t been that way, there is still the same, if not more, sorrow, anger, resentment. It is all there, growing with each day, refusing to let go, consuming you, building a thick barrier between you both, leading your mind to replay over and over that dreadful day two years ago.

But all of this isn’t enough to make you not worry about him, apparently. Because as soon as Steve mentioned he had a solo mission coming up, your thoughts ran to your ex-boyfriend. Who would be there for him when the nightmares arrived?

You knew they were back, you saw this often on the rapid glances you dared to steal in this last week, glimpsing the dark circles deepening his still devastatingly gorgeous blue eyes. They had stopped, when you were the one to spend the nights with him, calming him down, running a soothing hand over his trembling chest, whispering sweet nothings on his ear. They would go away, until, towards the end, they stopped entirely.

The end…

Your feet end up driving you to your new room. On a new floor. You know your old one is vacant and wonder whose idea was it to relocate you on another room instead of the one on his floor. Some smart person, for sure. The thought leads you to your current concern, with Steve away the floor would be totally empty and he would be alone with his night terrors.

Letting yourself fall face down on your bed, you stay like that for a while, before rolling over and placing a hand over your forehead.

You know what do.

It was a terrible, terrible idea, which could easily lead to catastrophic results. Mostly for your heart. But what choice did you have, really?

“Friday,” you listen to the prompt response from the A.I, “Would you please wake me up if- I mean, when you notice any kind of distress in Bucky´s sleep?”

You frown, finding very odd the unusual silence from the always efficient AI before the tentative answer, “Are you sure, Miss Y/L/N? Considering your history with Sergeant Barnes…”

An inevitable curse leaves your lips aimed at Tony Stark for creating such a clever and sensitive program, if you even could call her that, “I am,” you lie, “Just don´t tell anyone, please.”

~~~~

“Miss-”

“I got it, thank you, Friday.” You´re still awake, rolling between your sheets, when the first warning of the night arrives.

Barefoot and in your pajama set, you don´t think twice before taking the elevator up to his floor. The overwhelming anxiety manifesting in your sweaty cold hands and tight jaw. An ice cold wave rushes through your chest to your limbs. It´s been so long since you´ve done this.

You find his door locked. “Friday?” you call, and you hear the unlocking sound before the doorknob gives in your push.

The whole apartment is pitch-dark as you cross the small living room towards his bedroom. When you get there, the sight before you wrenches a gasp from your lungs. His sheets are a complete mess, the borders already out of the mattress as he tosses and turns. Small whimpers slip out of his lips and, as you cautiously walk over to him, you see the desperation twisting his expression.

For a split of a moment, your mind drives you back to the very first days. Ironically enough, this was how you started getting closer in what felt like ages ago, with you not being able to stay quiet and sleep peacefully with the sounds of deep, deep mind torments behind your room.

A particularly loud cry blurs your memories, pulling you back to the similar present. You weren´t exactly sure of what you would do when you asked Friday to wake you up, but now, it´s second nature when you hurriedly drive yourself closer, but when you climb on his bed, you do it slowly and carefully, conscious of what a sudden awaken could cause, including to your physical health.

You lay down facing his side, getting a better look of his scrunched up expression and clenched jaw. His chest heaves as his hands grip on the sheets and his legs squirm. Aware of your own unstable breathing, it´s like you´re a spectator of your own actions when you do what you always did. You place a timid hand over his chest and the familiar warmth rushes through your veins, his skin is as hot as you remember and it takes all you have in you to not envelope him in your whole body, to feel every bit of him.

The single touch is enough to make the movements of his limbs and chest calmer, but his anguish is still evident on the incoherent mumbles and droplets of sweat falling from his forehead, which encourages you further, despite your own fretfulness.

“Hey,” you whisper, leading your mouth closer to his ear, hoping it wouldn’t be enough to wake him up, but to call his attention out of whatever terror is taking over his mind, “It’s ok. You’re ok. You’re safe,” You don’t notice but your hand gently draws circles around his chest, “It’s not real, it’s just a dream. I’m here, I…” this used to be the part when you said you loved him, “I… I missed you.” You gulp, not being able to help your own tears as you continue speaking softly to him, noticing the rushed heartbeats that only he was ever able to arouse in your chest. You can´t decide at this moment whether you to be scared or comforted by this well-known feeling.

You smile when his expression becomes softer, a little bit at least. His breathing is fully back to normal and his muscles are finally relaxed. You weren’t sure you would be able to help after so long, after everything… But despite it all, you’re glad you did. If there´s one thing you´re sure of it’s that he doesn´t deserve that kind of suffering, that kind of pain, no matter what he may think about the matter.

Before you would leave to your room, you allow yourself some time to take him in, which it has been impossible in the last week, since you ran from his presence and avoided looking, really looking at him, being certain he´s been acting the same when it comes to you.

He has cut his hair, which is odd to your eyes, you longed for his long locks, even if you’ve never admitted it to yourself through this last year. Under the touch of your hand, you feel he’s even more bulked, and you wondered how many hours he’s been spending in the gym. There’s a light scruff growing on his sharped jaw, defying you not to lay a kiss upon it…you breathe him, his scent, closing your eyes…still the same shampoo. Your gaze lay upon his completely peaceful sleeping face again. You really missed him, there’s no way to deny it anymore, at least not to yourself. 

Deciding to leave before he would wake up and catch you in the unexplainable position, you remove your hand from his chest, and draw out one last glance at him before quietly turning to leave his bed, sitting up and letting your legs fall to the edge.

“Y/N.”

You freeze. Your eyes shut and a grimace twists your face. Ignoring the best you could your racing heartbeats and the tremble of your hands gripping the sheets, you open your eyes and tilt your head to look behind you.

He’s still peacefully sleeping, unmoved, except for his metal hand touching where you’ve been touching on his chest. You let a relieved sigh out of you.

“Y/N…Y/N.”

Nothing but faint whispers, but they’re efficient to make your heart pounding all over again. Is he dreaming of you? Is he sensing your presence? You want to move and leave him to his privacy, before it would be too late, but your body doesn’t seem to respond your commands as you keep staring at his sleeping form. Until you hear it.

“I’m sorry, baby…I’m sorry.” 

The simple and unconscious words are enough for you to choke on a sob and storm out of his bedroom, allowing yourself to cry in your bed for the rest of your own restless night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky have a small interaction. Steve’s back. You don’t want to stop helping Bucky, even if he doesn’t know a thing. How long will you be able to keep the control of the situation?

You hated parties. So much. Yet, there you were. The voice of your grandfather echoed in your mind, telling you that going to events, socializing, and making contacts were an essential part of the job. “Kicking some asses isn’t all this is about, pumpkin,” he used to say. You remember going with him at very early age, having to memorize the name of all the big players and how each of them could be beneficial to SHIELD.

The perks of being raised by one of the founders of the powerful organization. Even years after his death, you couldn’t help but following his lead, not missing one single event like the one you were at now.

Leaning on the balcony, you took a sip of your champagne, scanning the place, identifying at least a dozen of people you would have to socialize with before the end of the night. 

However, before you got into action, your gaze landed upon him. Bucky Barnes. The former Winter Soldier. Four spots away from you at the bar, asking for a drink of his own. You wondered what Steve had to do to drag him there. Since he got to the team, he had been keeping to himself, interacting with almost nobody, except Steve and occasionally Sam.

You knew the famous brainwashing wasn’t a problem anymore and he’d been doing well on the missions he had been assigned to, but your efforts on exchanging a bit more than the good mornings and hellos with him, it was to no avail.

The man intrigued you. Not to mention he was hot as fuck. Considering the two samples you worked with, the 40’s should have been a damn good decade to live in.

You were taking another sip of your glass when he inadvertently turned his face to you, catching you gawking. You quickly moved your gaze to your front. But your eyes were also quick on betraying you, seeking for him again.

And then you saw something you had never seen him doing before: he was smiling. Bucky Barnes was fully turned to your direction and sporting a small, yet gorgeous smile on his beautiful mouth. The man who hadn´t acknowledged your existence so far was aiming the sweetest of smiles at you.

You felt a broad grin of your own tugging at your lips and some weird fluttering feelings taking over your stomach.

Oh, shit… this can’t be good.

~~~

Why is the fucking kitchen so far fucking away? The thought pops into your mind while you drag your feet to said kitchen, aiming to fill your empty whining stomach, hoping to be lucky enough and find nobody there. You haven´t managed to sleep for a single minute since the night before. The moments with Bucky and the last words he said before you dashed out of his bedroom ended the possibilities of you having any kind of rest, as you kept reliving them in your mind.

I’m sorry…I’m sorry…

They weighed over you, over your heart especially, bringing out emotions and feelings you thought you had done a good job on burying inside the depths of you. It isn´t so, apparently, for those simple words were enough to erase two years of your life. Two years of running away, two years of forgetting. Or trying to.

You wonder if you really made the right call on coming back. Being away seems a very good and reasonable decision now, why did you have to go and change your stupid mind? You take a deep sigh, pushing the kitchen´s door open. You know damn well why you changed your mind-

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Of course luck wouldn´t be your friend that morning. “Morning, Nat…” you murmur, “Sam…Wanda…” you nod to the other only two occupants of the table, who wish you their mouthful “good mornings” as you walk to the coffee machine and help yourself with a cup of strong espresso, before joining the group.

“Okay,” Natasha drags the word after a moment of the three of them staring at you, while you fill your plate with some of the eggs and bacon from the pan on the table, “what exactly ran over you last night?”

You let out a bitter laugh, you surely look like shit after the hell of a night you had, “Like I´m the only one here with sleeping troubles every now and then.”

Wanda and Sam shrug and keep eating, finding no lies in what you said, while Natasha smirks, “I missed you. Thought two years away from us, simple avengers, would change you. I´m glad it didn´t.”

“I don´t think simple is the word you looking for, Tasha,” You don´t have to force the smile curling up your lips. You´ve missed everybody, but Wanda and Natasha would always hold a special place in your heart. Your little squad, having your back no matter what.

“All right, but the real question is: to what do we owe the honor of having the illustrious director of the infamous European branch of new SHIELD among us?” Sam says the words with mocked drama, wiggling his brows and imitating quotations marks over new for the effect. 

You roll your eyes at the remark, “They hate you call them that, you know?” You swallow your coffee and sigh after he chuckled and kept looking at you, waiting for a response. Apart from Steve, Wanda and Natasha, It hasn´t been so hard to avoid explaining to the rest of team the circumstances of your presence since the beginning of the week, considering the come and go due to missions and personal matters, like the long delayed honeymoon of Tony and Pepper. You guess you can’t avoid it any longer, “Ahm, it´s former director, actually. I’ve resigned.” You smile tightly at him, “I’m back to stay.” Your both hands firmly hold the cup in front of you.

His jaw drops and a sound, which you can’t distinguish between a scoff and a genuine laugh, comes out of his lips. You raise a brow at him, as Natasha keeps her classical unperturbed expression and Wanda takes a nonchalant sip of her milk. His gaze switches between you three, “Are you serious?” he asks, at last.

“Yup”, you shrug, gulping down some eggs and hoping for the miracle of not having to discuss the matter any further.

“What the hell happened? This was all you ever talked about ever since I met you.”

You’re taking a breath to face the questions, when the miracle you were hoping for happens in the form a sexy former assassin.

“Ok, Wilson, enough of bacon and chit-chat. You’ve been successfully dodging from that sparring session with me for too many times, now.” Natasha snaps out of her seat, dragging Sam with her by the collar.

As relieved as you are, you know Sam isn’t stupid to fall for that, but, lucky for you, he’s also the most comprehensive motherfucker you know. He swallows back whatever he really wants to say and goes along, “I’m glad you’re back anyway. We really missed you.” He pats your shoulder before being drifted out of the room.

You can’t help a small smile to cross your face at his consideration in leaving the subject behind. Or for later, if you really knew him. Shaking your head slightly, your gaze falls upon the up till now silent Avenger in the room, who is smirking at you, with her arms folded in front of her.

“What?” Your eyes narrow at Wanda.

“You know what? You were right.” Her smirk grows bigger at your quizzically shrug, “All of us have trouble to sleep.” She elaborates, grabbing her cup and plate and turns her back to you, walking to the sink, “By the way, one nocturnal troublemaker in special is strangely still asleep this morning.”

You choke on your coffee. While she dries her hands using a dish cloth, you can’t see her face but you’re mostly certain she’s sporting one of her radiant full grins. If you can expect scolding and advices against what you did last night, you know you wouldn’t receive them from Wanda. She has always been the most supportive of you and Bucky and she was heartbroken with the break-up. She used to say she shipped you two, or something like that.

Wanda walks back to you, stopping behind your chair and leaning down to wrap her arms around your shoulders. “I think what you’re doing is great. He hasn’t slept that well in…well, two years.”

Before you can respond in any way, she props a kiss on your cheek and is out of the kitchen in a swift move, leaving behind her a slightly lighter heart than the one which has entered the kitchen this morning.

~~~

The rest of your day consists on being in the main office, trying to catch up with what you missed these last two years concerning missions, team rearrangements, new additions and work methods… You have a lot to study and analyze, which you’re kind of thankful for, since locked inside a room alone, you don’t have to play the avoidance game you and Bucky have been engaging to this last week. Also, it’s always been easy for you to use work as a way to take him and everything concerning you both out of your mind, at least for a bit. Mission accomplished. You’ve successfully driven your mind away from him and haven’t seen Bucky the whole day.

Except the day isn’t over yet.

Late in the afternoon, a throbbing pain lodges in your head, and you decide to hit the gym and exhaust your body instead of your mind for a change and, hopefully, relax. Everyone usually does their work outs in the morning, before their day’s responsibilities, so you are pretty confident you’ll have the place all to yourself.

Just like you expected, you find yourself running on one of the treadmills with no one around. Earphones drumming your favorites beats in your ear, you keep speeding up, the endorphin rushing through your body, easing your headache and running down to your limbs.

The slowly shift from numbness to aching in your joints brought by the heavy exertion doesn’t stop you from accelerating even more, breaking a personal record. You’re drenched and panting when something catches your peripheral vision, right by the door, making you trip on your toes and hit straight to the ground.

You groan at the pang you feel in your ankle and bring your hand to cover your eyes, pulling your earphones with the other, tossing them aside, cursing at your clumsiness, trying to recover your breath, even through clenched teeth.

“Are you ok?” 

Fuck.

You open your fingers to see between them, meeting a pair of blue eyes hovering over you. The very same blue which has knocked you down all those years ago, and keeps making you trip on your feet.

As he stares at you, worry etched on his face, you incline yourself up, supporting your weight with your hands on the floor, as he crouches in front of you. “My right ankle,” it´s all you mumble, having almost completely forgotten about the pain.

Bucky then focus his gaze on your feet, and you try not to wince when he gently wraps his hands around your aching ankle. The touch is clinical as he assesses possible damages, but is incredibly soft and, as it has always been, even with the metal, it’s warm, subduing the ache right away. Goosebumps trails up your skin and his heat rolls off on your body in burning sparkles. It´s the first time he´s touching you after two years and all you can do is stare at him, and control yourself not to scream, run away or throw yourself at him and kiss him breathless.

His attention is stuck on where he´s touching you, “There´s no sign of trauma,” His voice is dry and contained.

Even if he isn’t looking at your face, you nod and expect him to let go of you then. But he doesn’t. Your breath hitches in your throat as his thumbs draw lazy circles on your skin. The touch is barely a brush, light and soft and you could retract yourself from it if you wanted.

But you don’t.

You’re frozen in place while your gaze follows his flesh hand when it unhurriedly slides up the back of your leg. You stop breathing altogether and he seems hypnotized by his own hand when it stops right in the middle of your calf. Your eyes flutter shut. It’s overwhelming, bringing you to old memories and new sensations. A simple touch and you´re a puddle on the floor, willing to drown into him again.

“Bucky…” you finally breathe through your daze.

Your voice calling his name seems to snap him out of his own stupor, because too soon his hands are out of your body and as you open your eyes, you face the hardening of his features, still not looking at you when he stands up promptly.

He offers you a helping hand, and when you´re up, it’s only a moment before he takes a safe step back, avoiding the closeness. “Are you ok to walk?”

You’re the one who avoids his eyes, when he finally looks at you. You nod, feeling the pain in your ankle easing down.

“Good. Some ice and anti-inflammatory ointment and you should be ok.” Just like that he’s out of the gym, apparently forgetting whatever he was going to do there.

The phantom of his touch still lingers while you gather your stuff and drag yourself to your room. You sigh deeply when you realize the simple truth: he left a longing plastered in your skin. An aching longing for more. 

~~~

Late that night you find yourself again in his bed, running a timid yet soothing hand over his chest and whispering calming words on his ear, after Friday gave you the warning.

Your mind can’t help but travel to the afternoon events. The tiny interaction may seem insignificant on the surface, but you how much it’s meant to you. He’s spent a whole week ignoring you, not talking to you, running from your presence, and you, mimicking his behavior perfectly, both experts on staying away from each other.

But then he touches you… and all you want is more. Damn with the past, damn with the mistakes, the bad decisions. The heartache. You want him. You want him to want you, to kiss you, to touch you, to…

“Y/N?”

The whisper makes you promptly turn back around to find Steve, in tactical uniform, standing by the bedroom’s door with an almost comical expression of confusion on his face. Bucky stirs by your side and you’re quick to put a finger over your lips, signing for Steve to be quiet.

He sighs and nods toward the front door, before walking away.

You take one last look at Bucky’s peaceful form and cautiously leave the bed to follow the Captain.

“What am I seeing here?” he whispers almost in a harsh way, turning to you with folded arms in front of him when you close the door behind you.

You stare at your fidgeting fingers and use the same low tone to answer him, “I just couldn’t leave him on his own, Steve.”

Looking up at him, you catch the sternness leaving his posture as he takes a deep breath and regards door behind you for a second, “Does he know?” His gaze travels to yours and you shake your head in response. 

You stare at each other, conversing through your eyes, like only two people who know, understand and nurture a deep love for the same person could. He´s the one to cut the silence, “He never goes back to sleep so peacefully, you know? When I’m the one in there.”

It’s so fucked up to feel good about the information, considering you´ve been away for so long, but knowing you´re still the only one able to take him out of his torment brings you a shameful sense of pride. And hope. You almost can´t help a small smile to shape your lips, so you decide to speak to hide it, “Did you just got here?” You point to his battered uniform. 

“Yeah, came straight here to check on him. He seems to be just fine,” he smirks “I worry, though. About both of you.” His eyes bores into yours, “Are you ready to deal with it? With him?”

The meaning behind his words makes your chest smaller and you take a minute before speaking again, not really answering his question, “I think he was dreaming about me, the first night…”

“Wouldn´t be the first time.”

You mimic Steve’s tightened lips before they start trembling, “He said he was sorry…” You swallow back tears, casting your eyes away and staring at the door.

Steve places a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze and you look back at him. 

“I- I, wanna keep doing it. You said he usually doesn’t go back to sleep well. I wanna help him.” You grace your voice with resolve.

He removes his hand of your shoulder and contemplates you for a second, “You have to talk to him, though…Not just about this, but everything else.”

“I will, just… give me some time? Please?” You aim pleading eyes at him.

He nods and smiles softly when you let out the air stuck in your lungs. “Have I said I’m glad you’re back, already?”

You chuckle, pulling him for a hug. He hugs you back promptly and you’re so thankful for Steve Rogers. You know it’s been hard for him, too. Yet, there he is, supporting and offering his shoulder for you. 

“I´m starving, wanna go grab something with me in the kitchen?” He whispers softly, moving his hand in circles around your back.

You hear the silence inside the room before nodding and letting him pull you by the hand.

~~~

With Steve’s approval, having Friday waking you up becomes routine. It isn’t every night it happens, though, which is great for Bucky, but if you’re going to be honest, you long for the moment you can be close to him, talk to him, feel his body heat washing over your skin… He hasn´t spoken to you ever since that day in the gym, so you spent the days waiting for the nights. 

Steve´s been giving you the time you asked for, but you know the situation can´t be sustained for much longer. You need to talk to him, once and for all. You have to do it. Maybe tomorrow… or the day after tomorrow…

Tonight, Friday wakes you up later than usual and it takes longer for you to calm him down, due his agitated state. You hear him calling your name again, like it happened sometimes before, and you whisper you’re there, careful enough to get the message to his subconscious without waking him up.

You always leave when you’re certain he’s back to a peaceful state of mind, but maybe with the whole familiarity of the routine, you’re feeling dangerously comfortable and you´re not sure at what point you doze off tonight. All you know is the next thing you see is your hand laying upon an empty mattress.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your heart rate rises when you follow the rusky voice. He´s plastered against the wall next to the bed, bare chest heaving and glossy eyes staring at you. You don´t miss his hands clenching when you move to sit on the bed.

Taking in a deep breath, you see no way out, before forcing a steady voice, “We need to talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a little glimpse of your past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if you like it or don't, leave feedback!! I'll thank you forever.

“Fairytales? Love?” Your grandfather’s thunderous laugh echoed through your bedroom. “Love is for the weak, pumpkin. And you´re certainly not weak, are you?” he questioned your seven-year old self, tucking you under the blankets after you had asked him to read you a fairytale of princesses and princes before bed, just like the one your teacher had read at class that day.

You were quick to shake your head, regretting your request, which had clearly disappointed your grandfather. “Of course not, I’m very strong. Just like you, grandpa.”

He hummed, sounding unconvinced while he side-eyed you, to your dismay. “Listen carefully, Y/N.” He stared into your eyes, leaning in closer to speak, “The world is a master on making little girls believe they’re fragile, vulnerable, needy. But not you, sweetheart. You’re a fighter, and as long as you remember how tough I raised you to be, you won’t need anyone.” He softened his tone to continue, “But the world will need you, my little soldier. And you have to be there for them, always. Be caring and compassionate, but do it because it’s your duty, don’t waste it on someone who will weaken your strengths and diverge you from your purpose, do you understand me, pumpkin?”

You nodded eagerly, listening attentively to your grandfather, still oblivious to how much those words would mold your future.

“That´s my girl,” he praised you, pinching your nose and making you giggle, “Now let me tell about the time Auntie Peggy and I…”

 

Two years ago

If someone told Bucky he was a lucky man a few months ago, he probably would laugh his ass off. He could think of a number of words to describe him and ’lucky’ wasn´t one of them.

Until you.

Now, Bucky considered he was lucky as hell for falling off that train more than seventy years ago. He was lucky to have survived that fall and lucky to spend most of that time frozen, just to end up alive at the same time as you. What a damn strike of good fortune he was friends with that punk Steve Rogers, who happened to be an Avenger, just like you.

Before you, Bucky was alive, of course, but he wasn’t living. Every day was just another fight to keep going, to be there for Steve and try not to show his best friend how he was just existing . Then, he caught you staring that night and everything had changed, helping him gather the courage to finally get closer to you.

It was something entirely new the way he felt around you, like he could be and feel whatever, no judgments, no pressure, no expectations. With you, he allowed himself to feel miserable, angry, happy, sexy, playful. It was like he was getting to know himself all over again, all the emotions he was able to feel, all the nuances of his personality. It was something different than remembering who he used to be; instead, he was getting to know who he really was now. And he was aware he owed it to you, to your acceptance of him, to your soothing touches, your kisses, your smile, your love.

It was addicting. He had been clinging on you way too much, he suspected, but he simply couldn’t help it. He was completely hooked on you and who he was by your side.

A large smile framed his face as he walked to his bedroom after a long and tiring mission. You hadn´t been there at the deck to welcome him, like you always did when he arrived from missions without you, so you were probably still sleeping. He felt like a kid, anxious to surprise you with his arrival after several days with no communication at all. He needed to see you, hold you in his arms, make love to you, listen to your voice. He needed you.

This is why he had kept the tiny black velvet box close to him the entire mission. It was a reminder that all that violence, all that horror was temporary and you were his forever. He planned to make the proposal tonight and his heart beat faster just to imagine the beautiful word coming out of your lips…yes…

“Doll?” he called, pushing the door opened. Silence answered him. Entering the room, he frowned at the tidy bed. Odd. You had been sleeping in his room for months now.

He strutted to your bedroom with an uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach. What he found next was your empty room. Literally. It was like no one had been living there.

Bucky couldn’t feel the floor beneath his feet.

~~~

He waited in the dark. It had been hours since he sat on the couch from your new home, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of the door, waiting for the moment he would see you again. He’s pretty sure it was not reciprocal; you had gone away from him, after all. But he had to see you, he had to understand. 

The click on the door reverberated through the increasing beating of his heart. Your silhouette showed through the entrance of your apartment and took the air out of his lungs before you turned the lights on. You had your back turned to him as you locked the door again and placed your purse on the small table beside you. 

1…2…

He was not surprised when you briskly turned around. Gun pointed at his head. There you were. His gorgeous girl. His love. God, how he had missed you.

Bucky remained still as your widened eyes softened and you let out an almost imperceptible relieved sighed, lowering the gun. It was a split of second before the relief left your face, giving place to a hardened expression.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, placing the gun on the table, but not moving an inch from your spot.

Bucky chuckled bitterly, laying his arm over the armrest, “I’m here to ask you the goddamn same thing, Ms. Director of SHIELD,” he licked his lips and gulped before continuing in a softer tone, “What the hell are you doing here, doll?”

“How did you get in?” You ignored his question.

“Seriously, Y/N?” He arched a brow and got up, stopping right when he saw you taking a step back. It was like you were scared of him getting too close and it was nothing but a knife cutting through his chest. “Baby, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered.

Your expression twisted into something he would guess was regret, “I know,” you nodded your head, looking down to your feet, before stepping closer, “I just wasn’t expecting this.” Straightening your pose, you looked back at him, dead in the eye, while working on taking off your coat to hang it on the wall, “I wasn’t expecting you to come here.” You stepped closer and crossed your arms.

“What?” he once again walked to you, furrowing his eyebrows at your puzzling words, “I… How could I not?” It didn’t slip past Bucky’s attention your stiffened posture, so he decided not to touch you, even if it was exactly what he desperately longed for since you had walked through that door, “You disappeared. I’ve been trying to reach you for days and nothing. Why…What happened? Why did you run away from me, doll?”

“I didn’t run away from you, Bucky.” You scoffed, avoiding his gaze. You seemed tense by his proximity, “As you’re aware by now,” you swiftly walked past him, making he turn around to look at your back as you tilted your head to the side to continue speaking, arms still crossed in front of you,“I was offered the position of being the director of SHIELD’s branch here in London. It was a great opportunity. I took it. That simple.”

So cold. Distant. This wasn’t you. Why were you acting that way with him? Bucky could barely control the confusion and insecurity in his voice, “Ok… Ok… But why the complete silence? Why didn’t you wait for me so we could talk things through?”

“What do you mean talk things through?” You snapped, turning back to face him, “This is my damn life. I owe you nothing, Bucky. Besides, I’ve been busy as hell, the last thing on my mind was you.”

An icy wave on his spine frozen him in place and it’s like his heart had stopped entirely, “What?” Bucky couldn´t possibly be hearing you right, “Why are you saying things like that? I know you don’t owe me anything, but we were… we are together. I thought…”

“Listen, Bucky, I was trying to avoid this whole…drama, but ok,” you sighed, “We had a thing, alright, but that was it: a thing.” You shrugged, “You’re a great guy, what we had was special, but it doesn’t fit in my life anymore. I’m sorry.”

She said ‘had’. The past tense weighed over his whole self, “What are you talking about?” Feeling you slipping through his fingers, he couldn´t help but close the distance you had been keeping, trying to reach for you, to touch you, as if he would be able to keep you like this. 

You stepped away and his stomach sank, “It means whatever we had it’s over. Don’t make such a big deal about it, please.”

Bucky didn´t think he had ever felt that kind of despair before. He was losing you. He was losing the only thing that had kept him sane since he doesn’t even remember. He couldn´t. He wouldn´t.

“I don’t believe you. This would only make sense if everything we lived so far, everything you did and said to me was a fucking lie. And it wasn’t, I know it wasn’t.”

“Bucky… I don’t know what to say…” You shook your head, looking to the other side.

This time, Bucky didn´t hesitate and reached for you again, cupping your cheeks and resting his forehead on yours when you turned back, surprised, “Say you don’t love me.”

“Bucky…”

You hadn´t tried to push him, and he felt your body relaxing bit by bit, responding to him. He sighed deeply. Hope, there was hope. He could almost touch it.

“Come on, say it, baby,” he whispered, staring into your closed eyes. With his chest so closed to yours, he could feel how erratic your breathing was.

“Stop…” You placed your hand over his. He thought you would try to pull him away, but you didn´t. You just gripped into him.

He smiled. Hope.

“I need you so much it hurts…I can’t let you walk away from me like this.” His mouth brushed over yours as he spoke and he felt your hands shivering, “Baby, tell me what’s wrong. I love you. I love you, and you love me, I know this, even if you’re not saying it outloud. I feel it in the way you look at me, in the way you kiss me, how you’re always there for me… Please don’t do this to me, whatever it is, we can work things through, I need you…”

He feels your body hardening again, “See, that’s the fucking problem, Bucky.” You pushed on his chest, creating a new distance, “You wanna know what’s wrong? What’s wrong is I didn’t have a life of my own anymore. Everything was about this” you repeatedly waved your hand between you and him, “Everything is about you. What you need.” You pointed at him, exasperation evident in your voice and movements, “I can’t do it anymore. It’s too much.”

He stared at you, blinking the tears forming in his eyes and trying to hold back the lump in his throat, understanding finally coming to him as the faint traces of hope he had just felt faded away. He could see it now: his baggage, his change of moods, his insecurities, the constant necessity to be close to you, to cling on you, the fucking nightmares, “Oh…I-I didn´t realize…”

“I wasn’t born for this” You dipped your hands into you hair, staring at the floor, like you were talking to yourself more than you were talking to him. When you lifted your eyes back at him, he barely could recognize your face, changed with evident exacerbation, “I can’t deal with you, with this. It’s too fucking much,” you repeated, “Just right now, I´ve been trying to tell you I don´t want you anymore and you keep talking about what you need of me…”

You run a hand over your face and sighed, before walking past where he stood- dumbfounded and speechless- as you head to the door. With his back to you, he heard you fumbling with the lock before opening it, “Please, for once, listen to what I need and get the hell out of here, I need to breathe and live my life the way I’m supposed to.”

Of course. It all made perfect sense now. It was all his fault, of course… Who, in their right mind, would ever want a relationship with him, the Winter Soldier, with his fucking unstable mind and troublesome past? With all the mental issues, the emotional instability…Such a fucking burden…How stupid he was to think he could be better? He could be in a relationship without making the other person miserable? Because it was perfectly clear he had made you, the person he loved the most in his entire life, miserable and this would haunt him forever.

He pushed you away and lost you for the mere fact he was who he was. And who the hell was he going to be now, without you?

“I understand.” He slowly turned around, after he had no idea how long, keeping his face low, not wanting to bear you with his tears. He would never be a burden to you again, “You’re right. I can see it now.” He nodded softly. “I-I didn’t realize… I shouldn’t have come.”

He forced himself to walk to the door, still avoiding the look on your face, scared of what he would see there, but also ashamed of what he had meant to you… a fucking weight over your shoulders. “You won’t have to deal with me, ever again. I promise you that.”

You answered him with silence and he would always be grateful for that. His crushed heart wouldn’t bear to anymore truths that you could toss his way. Before he walked through the opened door he risked another brief glance at you, but you were the one not looking at him now, fixating on the floor, keeping the door opened for him. He whispered, one last time, “I’m so sorry, doll.”

Gripping tightly on the velvet box inside his pocket, he fled away so quickly from your apartment and your life that he couldn´t listen to the loud sobs he had left behind.

~~~

Present day.

Bucky breathes heavily, plastered against the wall next to his bed. He stares at the scene before him and there isn’t one single reasonable thought in his mind that could explain what the hell was going on.

You.

You’re there, on his bed. Sleeping. Like a fucking perfect angel. He woke up with you nuzzling to his neck. He felt at home at first, at peace. For a split of second it felt like the time had never passed, like it was before…

But then the reality sank in…

His heart hammers against his ribcage as he watches you stir and run your hand over the place he had been.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks sharply when you open your eyes.

Your gaze finds him and your eyes widen. You seem at a loss for words for a second, but it feels like forever to Bucky. You move to sit on the mattress and his hands respond clenching on each side of him as you do so. His eyes drop to your chest moving deeply as you take a long breath.

“We need to talk.”

“Answer my question.” His gaze snaps to yours.

You gulp at his harshness. His heart feels tight at your pained expression, but he doesn’t budge. He has worked really hard on these last two years, he wouldn’t let himself break. Not again.

“I-I, Steve was away and Friday let me know of your nightmares…”

“She shouldn’t have. I don’t need your pity. I don’t need you.”

You flinch and get up from the bed, walking to him, “No, that’s not it, Bucky…”

“Get out of my room,” he points at the door.

Your eyes shut before he can see the tears forming on them. He doesn’t understand why they’re there. You tentatively walk closer, “Bucky, please, let me explain…”

“What could possibly have to explain?” He shouts and struts to you, “You already made yourself pretty clear two years ago. Don’t fucking touch me,” he bats your hand away when you reach for him.

“Bucky…” your voice comes out small and your eyes are frantic and alarmed as you stared at him, openmouthed.

He avoids to looks straight at you to shout once again, pointing at the door, “Get. Out,”

After you swallow a sob, covering your mouth with a hand, you nod and turn to run out of his room, leaving the door opened behind you.

Bucky keeps his eyes glued to the opened door. His breathing is erratic as it feels like he hasn’t filled his lungs with air while you were there in front of him.

He tries to ignore the turmoil of feelings bubbling in his chest, in his whole body… the same ones he took so long to bury deeply inside him and now were threatening to come to the surface again. In autopilot, he drags his feet over the same path you have followed minutes ago and shuts the door.

He makes sure to lock it this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You relive an important memory.

The warm water pours over you, washing away the tears that haven’t left your eyes ever since the night before. You want to tell yourself you should be mad at him, that he has treated you poorly, that he shouldn’t have yelled and kicked you out of his room like he did.

But where was the truth in that?

You deserve this. You deserve every single minute of the cold treatment he has directed at you ever since you got back. You deserve the excruciating pain you felt when he looked at you like he was disgusted in finding you in his bed.

You caused this. Hadn’t you brought even much more pain to him years ago?

Reaching for the shampoo, you can’t help the familiar memory to replay in your mind.

~~~

His hand is on yours as soon as your reach for your shampoo. “Nuh-uh , let me.”

You huff, failing miserably on faking annoyance, as you drop your hand letting him grab the bottle. Tilting your head to the side you watch him pouring some of the liquid on his hand behind you, “I can wash my own hair, you know that, right?”

The smirk on his lips would be annoying if it wasn’t so damn endearing, “And where would be the fun in that? Plus, I like to take good care of my girl. Just like she does to me.”

And you let him. You let him take care of you. You sigh as your eyelids flutter when he digs his fingers among your locks, and gently massages your scalp. You can’t help but lean into his touch, seeking the warm of his bare chest as he works on the roots of your hair.

The way he makes you feel, just like at that moment, with such a simple action as washing your hair…it’s indescribable. Something completely new to you. The sensations are exciting and soothing at the same time, alluring, powerful … overwhelming.

There it is, that ice cold feeling at the pit of your stomach. The one you’ve been having a lot lately, especially at those time when you’re giving yourself wholly to him…

He turns on the showerhead and uses it to rinse the shampoo out of your hair, pulling you away from that train of thoughts and bringing you back to the moment. Delicately, he places his hand on your forehead so the water wouldn’t hit your face. It’s a delicious surrender. A small kiss on the crook of your neck entices a loud and long moan out of your lips, which prompts him to trace a path of opened mouth kisses along your shoulder. The warmth of his mouth replaces the water’s as he puts the showerhead back.

With the atmosphere changing, you reach behind you, taking his growing erection in your hand. He bites your skin in response, soothing the sting with his tongue when you hiss. He pulls you impossibly closer with his metal arm around your waist, while his flesh one descends on your body. He moans against your ear when he presses his fingers between your folds, finding you damp with arousal.

You have to focus to keep your legs straightened, stroking his cock while his fingers play with your pussy in a slow, almost torturous pace, tightening your core with twists of pleasure and need.

Neither of you say a word. All you hear is the water falling from the shower, mingled with ragged panting and sweet whimpers. His breath fans over your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine and you speed up your hand at the same time he eases a finger inside your pulsing entrance, and uses his thumb to give attention to your clit. Just how he knows drives you out of your mind.

Your head falls back on his shoulder and his lips locks on your cheeks, sucking and kissing the tender flesh. He has two fingers pumping inside your pussy and his name slips in a whisper out of your lips.

The coils of pleasure becomes too much and, as usual, he makes you come first. You let out a silent scream as your other hand flies to the back of his head, pulling at his locks. You’re thankful for the firm metal grasping around your waist, or else your legs would betray you and let you fall on the slippery floor.

You’re not fully recovered from your high when he swats your hand away from his cock and his metal arm ascends to grab your breast, walking you forward, pressing you against the tiled wall. Your gasp synchronizes with his groan when he enters you from behind, his chest glued to your back.

His pace is not slow. He fucks you desperately, wantonly, moaning and breathing against your ear, gripping your hips as you brace yourself with your hands on the wall, relishing at the sensation of having him inside you. A feeling you would never get tired of. Having sex with Bucky was always an experience to be lived intensively, remembered. Touched starved as he was, you didn’t take long to become sexual. But it was never just it, was it? Before him sex to you was whether a means to an end or a brief distraction. With him? It was something else, like you were nurturing a bond between your bodies, your minds, your souls.

It was making love.

When that annoying ice cold wave threatened to surface in your chest again, your attention is caught by him pulling out, but the ache of his absence is short-lived, as he briskly turn you around and grips the back of your thighs, making you reflexively wrap your legs around his hips and hold on with your arms around his neck. You sigh when he’s inside you again.

You know this is how he liked best to have you. Seeing your face, burying the infinite of his blue eyes into yours. You have your forehead against his, lost into his eyes when he reaches that sweet spot. A whimper escapes out of you and your breaths mingle as his parted lips brush yours.

By the tenseness of his whole body, you can tell he’s holding himself back, waiting for your second release to allow himself his own. And with a few more thrusts to the right place and hip bones rubbing against your sensitive clit, the powerful orgasm makes you shake around him, triggering his own, which he express with a frustrated groan against your lips.

When you’re both breathing normally again, after a moment of only feeling yourselves against each other, you let your feet touch the ground again, keeping your arms around his neck as he roams his hand over the sides of your wet body.

“Somebody just broke a few Captain America rules…” you tease before he captures your lips in a kiss. Your heart flutters at the sweetness of his tongue, exploring you slowly and sensually, until he breaks it, letting you catch some air.

“No sex before missions is a fucking stupid rule,” he says between soft pecks over the length of your jaw, which you accept willingly shutting your eyes in delight and tilting your head, allowing him to go further down your neck with kisses, “ Besides, my girl makes it so damn hard to follow it.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes snap open at “my girl”. You push him lightly away from you and try to keep a smile on your lips, praying he wouldn’t notice your sudden change of posture, “Well, you better hurry up, Mr. Rulebreaker, before you’re late to take off and blame me for that as well.”

He playfully whines but ends up agreeing with you with a peck on your nose. You’re glad he seems oblivious to your unwelcomed discomfort. He effectively finishes washing himself off, not without occasionally kissing some part of your skin, before leaving the bathroom with an unyielding smile curling the corners of his mouth after you say you need a little more time in the shower.

Without his presence, as you let the cascade of water run through your skin, it’s impossible for you to not take yourself back to the recurring thoughts and feelings that have wandered your mind lately. All the happiness, the glee and uncontainable joy you’ve been feeling by his side, the delightful surrender, the sensation of belonging… You can’t help but feeling this is not how you’re supposed to feel. Not how you’re supposed to be.

You’ve been thinking about your grandfather a lot as well. How much faith he had in you being a fighter like he was. How he raised you to take his spot at SHIELD, the organization he built with the help of his friends and was so proud of, which was his whole life, especially after the terrible accident that killed your parents and grandmother, making both of you the only family of one another.

It also transformed you into the only heir to his legacy. Protecting the world was his duty and life and, when he started your training very early in your life he had made it clear it was yours too. Everything and everyone else was a distraction and should be eliminated.

You had one purpose and one purpose only: give yourself entirely to your duty. You learned how to fight, how to survive, how to achieve your goals. The world needed you. You didn´t need anyone. Growing up, every relationship you had, friends or lovers, meant a connection to something else, something bigger, more important than…feelings.

Love was for the weak. That was what your grandfather had taught you and you lived your life by his rules.

Yeah…Until Bucky Barnes.

What the hell would your grandfather say if he saw you now?

Bucky came into your life and knocked the air out of your lungs. After that first smile in the party several months before, your relationship had evolved quickly from what you at first thought would be a harmless hook up. You became inseparable. A part of one entity.

The multiple sides of Bucky Barnes took the floor from under your feet. He could go from the sweet and shy caring guy, to a sexy cocky bastard, making a fuzz of your feelings.

And then there was also the darkness.

He needed you and you started to realize you were getting addicted to his vulnerability. For the first time in your life the needs of one person came before yours and everybody else’s. When you were with him, everything you found logic in life, what you had strictly planned for you, faded away. All you felt was him. All you felt was love. You knew this was love. There was no point in denying it… but how the hell were you supposed to live with that?

It was like you were losing track of who you were. When Nick Fury made you the offer for a very important job on the other side of the world days before, the one job you had been working so hard for, the first thought in your mind was him, Bucky. Everything you ever wanted suddenly was not anymore.

It scared and confused the shit out of you.

With the growing uneasiness taking over your state of mind, you turn off the shower. Wrapping a towel around your body, you take a deep breath and walk to the door leading to his room. He had been sleeping the whole night peacefully ever since you favored his bed instead of your own and you couldn’t shake the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach at the realization you hadn’t.

As soon as you walk through the open door you see him finishing suiting up. He briskly turns away at the sight of you. But not before you catch a glimpse of a shining ring in a velvet box that he so quickly closed and shoved into his pocket.

It takes a split of second for you to put on the incomparable poker face you mastered since you were six years old, “Ready to go?”

He turns to face you again. His own poker face would rival yours if wasn’t for the single droplet of sweat running down his forehead, “Have to, Steve’s already texted me.” You smile at each other as he rushes to you and holds your hips through the towel, pulling you closer. You’re thankful the fabric of his suit is thick enough for him not to feel the coldness of your hands when you place them on his back, holding him to you.

“I’m gonna miss you everyday,” you say hoarsely, your smiling dropping as you start realizing the weight of those words, “Please be safe.”

“Hey.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting your head to him, “I’ll be back to you in a blink of an eye.” He leans down and kisses you.

You respond his soft moves with ferocity, wanting to feel him wholly, to absorb his taste on your lips forever.

“I love you,” he whispers, breaking the passionate kiss and cupping your cheeks to stare into your eyes.

“I love you, too.” It surprises how calmly and truthfully you say those words despite the turmoil running through your veins. Not that you haven’t said that to each other before. Your relationship has been like a hurricane, hitting you with full force and you had acknowledged your feelings for eachother sooner than anyone could expect.

But now you’re finally understanding how deadly that hurricane has been.

He smiles a breathy smile and after kissing your forehead he leaves for his mission.

As soon as he’s out, everything you’ve been suppressing so far comes to the surface. Your legs drop you to the floor and you cling on the towel covering you as your breathing comes out in heavy panting.

He’s going to ask you to marry him.

Your fingers turn white with the force you use to clench the tower, bunching the fabric as you do wo. A sense of despair washes over you and the sobs slip out easily of your lungs. You gather the strength to get up, your hands reluctantly dropping the towel as you walk to the bathroom, counting your breaths until you get to the shower. You turn on the water again and get under it, hoping the strong flux would wash away the panic rising inside you.

Only one thought occupies your mind. You need to get out of there.

 

~~~

Reliving that memory isn’t new to you, neither is replaying every word you’ve spoken to him that dreadful day he went for you in London. Seeing him there, waiting for you in your apartment, had kicked the air out of your chest. Some part of you hoped he would hate you for leaving and would never want to hear from you again. As much as it would hurt, it would be more bearable than having to deal with the fact you’ve destroyed him, not only by leaving as the coward you were, but also with the words you said that day.

Now, you have to deal with the consequences. His hurt and torn up face has never stopped tormenting you these last two years. And now it would be just as hard to forget the anger and resentment which he looked at you with the night before.

Moving yourself mechanically, you finish your shower and put on some clothes to face yet another day.

Not feeling hungry in the slightest you skip breakfast and head to the common room, hoping to find someone to share a sparring session with, doing what you do best, using work to escape from yourself.

“You look like shit.” Nat’s voice greets you from the sofa as she raises her eyes from the book she’s been reading to see you walking in the room.

You chuckle with everything but humor, “Matches the way I feel.” You sit on the spot next to her and place your head on her shoulder as she puts her arm around yours.

“That bad, huh?” You shrug and she hums in response, “Talk to me,” she offers kindly, running her hands through your hair.

“Maybe another time,” you sigh, trying to avoid the tears all over again, “Now I would gladly throw out some punches, wanna volunteer?”

Her laugh makes you smile, but before she could answer your invitation, an unfamiliar jovial voice calls her name from the kitchen entrance behind you.

“Nat, hey.”

She tilts her head behind to follow the voice and you lift yourself from her shoulder, narrowing your eyes at your friend given the sudden edginess of her whole demeanor. Not a look you’re used to see on Black Widow.

“Adrianna, you’re back already?”

You notice the slightly higher tone on her voice and turn your face to see who this Adrianna was. What you meet is a beautiful brunette, smiling wildly at Nat as she sauntered into the room. When her eyes find yours, however, she halts, obviously taken aback by your presence.

“Hello,” not quite understanding why the atmosphere has grown tenser you decide to greet the woman with a smile.

It takes a moment, but she smiles back, shyly, “Hi.”

You look at Nat, still smiling but giving your “don’t you have something to do” face.

“Oh, Y/N, this is Adrianna.” She gets up to introduce you both and so do you, as Adrianna walks to where you were standing, “She’s a psychiatrist. She used to work for our Psychological department. Adrianna, you surely have heard of Y/N, she’s back on the team.”

“Oh, you’re back?” It doesn’t skip from your attention how the information seems to affect her, “I mean, welcome back, of course I know who you are, it’s an honor to meet you.”

She extends her hand and you take it, shaking it friendly, despite the odd feeling in your gut. “Nice to meet you, too, Adrianna.” You observe her. She is beautiful indeed, long straight black hair, green eyes, slim waist and posture of a princess.

“So, I thought you would stay a few more weeks on your trip, what happened?” Natasha asks, interrupting the handshake which was taking a little longer than socially accepted, grasping the woman’s attention.

“Oh, I decided to cut it short. Turns out I realized vacations don’t really suit me, plus, I missed you guys…”

“Anna!”

The enthusiastic call and the scene which takes place before causes a freezing rush to your spine and a lump forms in your throat. Bucky runs into the room and catches Adrianna in a hug, spinning her around. Thankfully you haven’t eaten any breakfast because the giggles they share twist your stomach.

“I didn’t know you were back,” he exclaims, keeping his hands on her shoulders.

“I just got here and came straight to see you…you guys,” she says looking briefly and nervously- which you notice by the slight tremble of her voice- at Nat. 

Bucky sports a large grin on his lips, looking only at her, like you and Nat weren’t even in the room. You, on the other hand, can’t take your eyes off of him. He looks a total different guy from the one you’ve been living with the last weeks. You should be glad to see him so cheerful - and to see the little wrinkles around his eyes that only appeared when he smiled wildly and you missed so damn much- but the fact the presence of another woman is the cause of it doesn’t let you go that far. Instead, you feel like the floor has been taken out from under your feet.

“Come, let’s make some pancakes,” he drags her by the hand to the kitchen. Not once sparing a glance towards your dumbfounded figure.

Adrianna follows him like a happy, compliant puppy. She says some words of goodbye to you and Nat, but you can’t say that you heard them. Your mind is racing … processing what you just saw. You know you shouldn’t feel this way. You don’t have the right. But it’s like a knife is lodged in your chest and you can’t breathe. 

Your body drops to the sofa as you stare ahead. Natasha sits behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey…” she tentatively says.

“Are they…” you manage to half-ask.

“No. She’s a … friend.”

The quick answer, despite the careful choice of the word “friend”, eases the heavy lump in throat for a moment, “But she wants-“

You look at Natasha in time to see her taking a breath and nodding her head. You bite your lips and swallows deeply. It was obvious. It was written all over her face. She was in love with him.

“Does he?’ you keep the small questions, not sure if you want to know the answers.

“She’s head over heels about the guy but I don’t think he sees it. Y/n, there hasn’t been anyone ever since you.”

You can only manage to exhale the air you’ve been keeping trapped in your chest. There are still so many questions you want to ask. Who the hell is this girl, what she meant for Bucky and why he seemed so comfortable around her? But the sounds of laughing coming from the kitchen take away your voice as you close your eyes.

The room is quiet for a moment, before Nat nudges you with her elbow, “Still wanna throw those punches?”

Your jaw clenches and you look at her, nodding feverishly as an answer.

“Come on then, I volunteer.” She pats your thigh and gets up, “And I’ll tell you everything I know you’re dying to know.”


	5. Chapter 5

The metallic taste of blood in your mouth is familiar. Comforting even. The sharp sting in your jaw an old friend. Knocked down on the floor,  your blurry vision glimpses Nat’s apologetic face hovering over yours. Your sparring partner always looked smug and proud when she managed to kick your ass at the ring, but she knows this time you’re not yourself. You let your guard down and made it too easy for her to knock you out with a killer Black Widow punch. The reason of your distraction? The story she was telling you between blows. About Bucky and Adrianna.

It crushed your heart when she described how devastated Bucky was when he returned from London… he wouldn’t talk to anyone- even Steve had a hard time on reaching for him- he wouldn’t even go out of his room, not to missions, not to eat or train, or anything. Nightmares were loud and constant. Nat said it seemed like _before_ all over again. Everybody knew the situation had everything to do with your sudden departure and evident break up, but he never said your name again. Not since he came back from London…

After a lot of work, it was Steve who, after months, somehow managed to drag him out of the tower and forced him to an appointment with one of the new psychiatrists of the team: Adrianna.  

He would only go to the first sessions because Steve intervened, but, little by little, it wasn’t necessary anymore. He started showing up for the meals, engaging in small talk, smiling at jokes, got a haircut. Even if the nightmares continued, his whole demeanor started getting better,  and he once again looked like himself. When he felt good enough and engaged in missions again, Adrianna assigned him for a fellow doctor, claiming their relationship had evolved to a personal level.

This was when Nat knocked you down.

“You said they weren’t together,” you spit some blood and, ignoring her helping hand, got up, promptly taking position to start over after cleaning some sweat out of your forehead with the back of your hand.

She regards you with her signature deadpan façade before her eyes roll and she turns on her heels, walking to get out of the ring.

“Hey! Where the hell are you going, Romanoff? I’m not done with you.” You throw your arms to the air.

“But I’m done with you, buddy. You know how I enjoy winning, but not like this. You’re being too reckless.” She eyes you from behind her shoulder as she passes through the ropes and sits at the edge. “Now don’t be a prick and sit here like the pretty girl you are if you wanna keep talking.” She smirks at you and pats the spot beside her.

God, that woman could be infuriating when she wanted to, but you end up giving in, stomping your feet to sit beside her, not before groaning your displeasure, “So?” you arch a brow at her.

“They’re not together, together,” she uses a calm tone to answer, grabbing one of the bottles of water  you left at the spot and handing you the other. You keep yours secured in your hand while staring at her gulping down from her bottle, “But they’ve been attached to the hip ever since,” she finally continues, resting the bottle on her side, “I think she’s become a support system of some sort for him. She even grew closer to all of us, and in the end she had to ask for a relocation to SHIELD to keep hanging out and avoid professional problems if she had to work with any of us.”  

She takes a moment and just contemplates you, waiting for you to say something. When you don’t do that and just evade her intense gaze to stare ahead and a take long sip from your water, as if the liquid is not the only thing you’re trying to digest, she adds, “I bet you don’t wanna hear this right now, but she’s not a bad person, Y/N. Adrianna’s is actually very nice and has helped Bucky … a lot.”

This tears your already wrecked chest apart, because the reason he has needed help at all was none other than you. You’re the one who has broken him all over again. All the work he had on building his self-confidence again was lost when you said all those things to him, when you made him believe he had meant nothing to you but a burden. And now, you can’t help but feel glad he has found someone that could help him gather the pieces you’ve shattered. But there’s a whole new feeling Bucky Barnes has introduced you to: jealousy.

“And she’s in love with him,” you affirm rather than ask as secure the bottle firmly in your hands, the answer already known to you. “You said he isn’t.” Your voice is barely a whisper when you finally look back at Natasha, who only smiles tightly and nods, “How can you know for sure?” desperation clings on your quivering tone.

“Oh, well, I can’t. I only act like I know everything, you know this.” She shrugs, “But I’ve known Bucky for a long time and I’ve seen him in love before … once” She winks and moves her head suggestively at you, “He likes Adrianna and appreciates her company, but the way he’s with her…It’s nothing like that…”

The tight smile almost curling your lips is quick to disappear, “He won’t even look at me now.”

“Y/N, I know we’ve spoken before, but … what happened?”

She doesn’t need to elaborate. After you left, and the whole team found out where you were, you told everyone it was because it was your dream job and your new assignments demanded you to leave in a hurry. To the ones who asked about it, like Nat, Wanda and Steve you said you didn’t love Bucky like you thought you did. They never pushed it any further and you were thankful for that at the time.

But now there’s something pushing you to speak, a desperate need to get it all out of your chest, so you tell her everything, starting from that first exchanged smile at that party, how hard and quickly you fell for each other and didn’t seem to know how to be apart anymore, the nights spent awake by his side, then the twisted feelings, the doubts, the ring and the panic attack that followed, that day in London… And you talked about your grandfather and how your feelings for Bucky made you question everything you were.  

“And like the coward asshole I am I ran away and threw the blame on him. That's it. No secret noble reason behind it, nothing other than I'm a terrible person-” You pause, taking a shaky breath while your eyes cast down, “The things I said to him, Nat… I should go to hell for that. I’ll never forgive myself and I don’t think he ever will … or should, either.”

The room is silent for a moment, until you finally hear Nat letting out a loud puff of air, “Oh, wow… no wonder he came back the way he did.” She seems to immediately regret her words, because she adds a hand to your shoulder, making you look back at her, after you let out a humorless chuckle, “Listen, what you did was messed up, no doubt about it. But we´re all a messed up bunch who does messed up things.”

“Wow, how deep...” you scoff.

“What I'm trying to say is you did the best you could with what was given to you. I can't completely judge you. Our backgrounds,” She moves her hand to your shoulder to fold her arms in front of her chest, “though different in methods, had a very much alike goal…” She sighs “It's still hard for me to understand people can like me… or even love me and I can feel the same. When I first fell for someone, I mean, really, really fell in love, fuck, I almost killed that bastard. Thank God Yelena was a tough cookie…” she says, taking a pause with a flash of dreamy eyes and smile, before resuming, “Yeah, it was a complete mess…”

You laugh softly and shake your head, drawing out a laugh from her before she wraps her arm around your shoulders, “It doesn't mean it can´t be fixed… If that's something you want.”  

She let´s the softly said line linger in the air and your jaw tenses before the answer blurts out from your lips while you stare ahead, “You know, when I resigned and asked to come back, I told myself it was because the job wasn't what I expected. That it was almost all paperwork and I was born for he action. But the moment I got here, when I got to see him again, it all came back to me. I understood what fucking bullshit I was telling myself.” You shake your head, resenting the way you kept lying to yourself, “The truth is I came back for him. I love him, I want him, Nat.”

You shift your head to look at her, not giving a damn about the tears running their way down your cheeks, “I’m the most selfish person alive, because I hurt him and now he's better off without me, but I want him back.”

Big startled green eyes stare at you while you struggle to easy down your breathing, looking back at your friend. Yes, you had already come to terms on how you’re feeling, but it was the first time you said it out loud and to someone else. It made it real. You want him, you desperately want him.

Your heart is hammering when, in a slow move, Natasha wipes a tear from your face with a finger, her face softening, “Oh, well… You sound like you need a drink or two, darling.” Definitely not what you were expecting her to say just after you opened up your heart. “Not this poor bottle of water that you’re holding so tight it might crush at any moment,” she rips the bottle out of your hands and your eyebrows raise when a cellphone emerges from an imperceptible pocket of her leggings, “I’m calling Wanda, we’re going out tonight.” She announces, nonchalantly, “We may have a mission tomorrow, but you and I both know hangover missions are the best ones,” she beamed mischievously.

You can’t help but close your eyes and snort before leaning your elbows over your thighs and burying your face in your hands.  

~~~

“…and I swear to God, I could spend my whole life eating only gelato,” Adrianna’s eyes flutter and she licks her lips, making a humming sound and turning Bucky’s smile even wider, “The Italians should win an Oscar of best people in the world for inventing that preciosity.”

She giggles and Bucky realizes how he missed the sound. Anna always has a way to make things lighter, to make him lighter, no matter how heavy his chest is, “You sound like you had the time of your life, why did you come back earlier?” he asks, taking a sip from his coffee.

He watches her placing her hair behind her ear with her fingers and looking down briefly, the smile never leaving her face, “Ahm, yeah… yeah, it was super fun, Italy is wonderful, but I really missed it here.” She shrugs and twists her lips, “You should’ve accepted my invitation, you would’ve loved it.” Adrianna adds, putting a piece of pancake in her mouth.

Bucky smiles and nods, taking a bite of one of his own pancakes. He’s been to Italy before, back in the war and he was pretty sure he’s been there when he was the soldier. Not great times to remember. You and him always talked about going there and building new memories together…

“So,” Adrianna clears her throat and cast an eye at the door behind her, taking him out of his trail of thought, “Ahm, she’s back. You never told me about it in your texts-”

“It wasn’t important,” he interrupts her, but seeing her narrowing eyes, he smiles, adding, “Everything’s good, Anna, don’t worry. I’m good.”

“You know you don’t have to lie to me, right?” She insists, worry etching on her face.

Bucky sighs, placing his mug on the table. He knows. He doesn’t have to and can’t lie to Anna, “I don’t wanna talk about it. Not here.”

She brings her hand to cover the one he’s using to keep a tight grip on the mug, “Tell you what, we’re going out tonight. Let’s have some drinks, I ramble a bit more about Italian food and you tell me everything you feel like telling me, how about that?” She offers, smiling sweetly when he looks back at her.

He thinks nothing of the light tremble on her body when he places his other hand over hers and nods in agreement, using his thumb to draw gently circles on her skin, “I’m glad you’re back, Anna.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky’s glad Anna picked their usual pub. The place and its regulars are used to having the Avengers as customers, even if not all of them knew Tony Stark was the owner, so gushing around them was rarely an issue. While Bucky drinks his scotch, Anna sips from her colored cocktail on the stool right next to him.

“I’m still trying to figure out how you stand drinking that.” He shakes his head and makes a face, resting his glass on the counter.

“Right back at you, buddy.” She nods towards his whiskey, making him chuckle. “But, hey, no more dodging the ball.” She places her drink next to his and her face gets serious, “How are you? Really?”

Bucky sighs. The question of the hour. “I don’t know…” he tightens his lips as he gives the most honest answer he can put out at the moment, “I really don’t… Ever since she’s come back, Anna, it’s like there’s this iron shield or something around my chest.” He draw circles with his metal hand above the place where his heart his. “And everything is locked inside, inaccessible, impenetrable, it’s…it’s suffocating. I feel like I’m fucking drowning…” his voice trails off. He gulps, staring down at his feet when he feels Anna’s hand above his.

“We’ve talked about this so many times, Bucky. The possibility of her coming back…” she says, giving him a soft smile that doesn’t conceal the worry in her eyes: “You have to allow yourself to feel… whatever it is you’re feeling, whether i’s anger, sorrow, happiness, love…” Her voice is small at the last words, but she keeps speaking, “If you don’t, it’s just like you said, you’ll drown yourself. You’re past that… aren’t you?”

His brow raises and he blows out a puff of air, shaking his head. “I thought I was.”

It’s taken him some time before he allowed himself to feel anything other than guilt after you left. He knew it was his fault. He had lost you because of how fucked up he was… It was Anna who helped him understand what else he felt about that.

The anger came. He got angry because of the way you left. Because you said those things to him, making him feel unworthy, unlovable. It was only then he understood you didn’t have the obligation to be with him, but you didn’t have the right to do what you did… Then he felt sad. He allowed the feeling of dejection to surface before he admitted he missed you, and that the love he felt was still inside him. And then he accepted the fact it was over and there was nothing he could do about it, other than try and move on. He started to get better when he allowed all of those feelings inside him.

But the nightmares… they never stopped.

Then you come back and he’s back to square one.

“Have you talked to her?” Anna squeezes his hand.

“I’ve got nothing to talk to her about…” Bucky promptly and sharply answers, pulling his hand away, as if the question itself is some kind of insult.

Anna visibly flinches, placing her hand on her lap and Bucky wants to punch himself.

“I´m sorry, it’s just that… Everything has already been said, I don’t know what we would have to talk about to each other anymore.” He uses a calmer tone this time.

She nods, giving him a reassuring smile, “Has she tried to talk to you? Approach you somehow?”

Bucky then tells Anna about the episode when he found you on his bed, mentioning what you had explained to him about asking Friday to wake you up while Steve was away when he had nightmares.

“Oh, wow…” Anna seems at a loss for words for a second before she adds, “Bucky I really think you should talk to her. Maybe if you tell her how she made you feel. It would give you some closure to both of you. It’s clear she’s still caught up on you, for whatever reason.” She shrugs, crossing her arms in front of herself. 

“I don´t know, Anna” Bucky lowers his head, shaking it. His voice is timid. “I don’t think I can take all of that again…”

“Then I’m here for you.” Anna cuts him off. “You know I’ll have your back. I’ll always be here for you.”

Her words fill his heart with fondness and a small smile forms in his face, “I know,” he says as he reaches for her hand once again, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on it. He doesn´t notice how her breath hitches on her throat, as the sweet fruity smell from her perfume fills up his nostrils, making him remember the comfort she’s able to provide him. For a second he ponders how easy it would be to love Anna… easier than-

“Y/N.”

“What?” He promptly asks, his brows closely knitting together as he moves her hand away from his lips to stare at her.

“Y/N’s here.” She answers with widening eyes, nodding behind his shoulder.

Bucky tilts his upper body to look in the same direction. There you are, a few feet away from him, sitting on a small table, sipping from a glass of whiskey. Even from the distance he can see the red lipstick on your lips.

His mouth is dry. You’re sitting with your profile to him and your dress has the perfect length, clinging around your thighs, exposing your gorgeous skin. Sweat starts to coat his hands. Why do you have to be so damn beautiful? All the fucking time? Memories of the two of you together in that exact same place flood into his mind. You had so much fun there. Talking, drinking, dancing… His stomach flips inside him as he catches you laughing and touching someone’s arm. Only then he sees Nat and Wanda are there, too.

“Bucky?” 

He blinks and turns to the voice calling him.

Oh, yeah…Anna.

“Are you ok?”

‘Yeah…yeah,” warmth overflows his cheeks as he lies, trying to not let the torment inside him to ooze into his voice, “Sorry.” He attempts to smile, but he doesn’t think he’s succeeding.

“Listen,” Anna sighs, downcast eyes avoiding his. Bucky can’t quite figure the reason for her saddened demeanor, so assumes is disappointment in him, “Just her presence is enough to unsettle you. I mean it when I say talking to her might be good for you, Bucky.”

He only nods, bringing his glass to his lips and gulping down the rest of his whiskey before turning to Anna, clearing his throat to try and kill the lump forming there. “I gotta go to the bathroom, be back in a sec.” He swiftly gets up and bolts away, leaving Anna and the sight of you behind.

~ ~ ~

“I swear to God, the things I had to do to talk him out of hanging a Reese Witherspoon poster on the wall…”

Tears form in your eyes as you and Nat laugh hysterically when Wanda let slip that Vision’s favorite movie of all time was Legally Blond. The fact that he had the lines memorized didn’t surprise you since he was the smartest being you’ve ever met, but thinking he would use his supreme intelligence for that was just amazing.

Nat was right. You did need a drink. And you did need your girls. Hanging with them eases down the heaviness of your heart, at least a bit, even if the place they chose was one full of memories of Bucky, of you and him together.

You almost hadn’t thought of him so far. 

Almost.

Your laugh dies instantly when a particular memory of him telling you he loved you with a whisper in your ear and hand skimming up your thigh under the table flashes in your memory. While everyone around you drank and laughed, you only saw his eyes, smiles, and dirty secret touches to each other.

You empty your glass with one single gulp, before addressing your still giggling friends. “I’m gonna get more of this,” you shake your glass and get up, walking towards the balcony for a much needed refill.

“Hey, Sandy. Hit me up, girl.” You smile and hand the glass to the same bartender from all those years ago.

“Y/N, good to have you back,” she winks at you as she pours out the strong liquor.

You’re about to say something back when another female voice reaches your ears, “I already told you I’m not interested.”

Turning towards the voice, you see an obviously drunk man standing too close to a clearly uncomfortable girl…Wait, Adrianna?

“Oh, come on,” the man whines. They’re a couple of seats away from you, so you can clearly hear them. Given how disturbed she seems you keep paying attention.

“Just one drink, babe. You’re here all alone, I can keep you company.” He leans closer and you can see when Adrianna makes a face and tilt her head away from his breath.

“Fuck off, dude.” She grabs her purse from the balcony and motions to get up.

“Don’t be a fucking bitch.” The guy grabs her by the arm, making her trip on her heels, and that’s your cue.

In a second you’re behind him, tapping on his shoulder, “Hey, asshole.”

“What?” he barks, and as he turns to you, he throws Adrianna to the floor and aims a sloppy punch on your face. You lazily dodge it by tilting your head backwards and use the heel of your palm to strike up under his nose. He screeches and falls to the ground next to Adrianna, covering the bleeding nose with his hands.

“Hey, John.” As you extend a helping hand to Adrianna, you smile at the pub`s bodyguard who crosses through the small gathering of curious people to get to you.

“Asshole?” he tilts his head questioningly at you, pointing at the pathetic squirming form on the floor.

You huff and nod before he only smirks and drags said asshole out of the pub, dispersing the small circle of people around you on his way.

Finally, you look down at a dumbfounded Adrianna, who’s still sitting on the floor and has yet to grab your helping hand.

You smile. “Come on. Are you o-?”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Someone else’s hand bats yours away and your heart stops when you see him. Bucky’s inflamed eyes bore into your widened ones as he pulls Adrianna up, ignoring the calls of his name in her voice, “What the hell did you do? Huh? Stay the fuck away from her.”

He points his finger at you, and you’re speechless at his outburst. Is he…. Does he seriously think you’re the one who hurt her?

“Bucky! Stop, stop.” Adrianna takes his hand, pulling it away from where it was shoved in your face, succeeding on making him finally look at her, “Y/N was helping me. There was this drunk guy being a jerk, I fell because of him. She kicked his ass.” She looked at you and smile, “It was awesome, by the way. Thank you, Y/N.”

The shock on Bucky’s face makes the pain in your throat even sharper. You felt your shoulders dropping and the eager need to vanish from the face of the earth is suffocating. Smiling back tightly, you focus on Adrianna, not able to look at Bucky for a single second longer.

“Are you ok?” You gesture towards her arm, surprised that you managed a low, but steady tone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

You nod and are quick in adding, “I’m glad. Take care.”

You turn around, ignoring Adrianna’s appeals for you to wait as you rush to the exit, being followed promptly by Nat and Wanda, who have seen everything from the table.

~ ~ ~

You can’t shake the look on Bucky’s face. He thought you had hurt Adrianna and you felt like a disgusting tiny insect under his enraged stare. You know you deserve it. You know you’ve given plenty of reasons to kill any trust he might have had in you.

But it hurts, anyway.

Of course sleep doesn’t come easily for you after that. This is why you’re still in your dress, barefoot, rolling a cigarette and a lighter between your fingers inside the elevator up to the rooftop. It used to be an old habit of you and Bucky before. Whenever there was a tough mission or something like that, you would share a single secret cigarette in the fresh air of the roof.

The elevators doors open. Here you are again.

Alone, this time.

After you lit up the cigarette, you set the lighter on the floor and take a deep drag, leaning your side against the nearest wall.

“Bad habits die hard, huh?”

The husky voice is what makes you to freeze, before you follow the voice and see his silhouette sitting on a bench a few feet beside you in the shadows. You can see the tip of a burning cigarette in his hands.

“Don’t you mean ‘old’ habits?” you answer, chewing on your lower lip.

“Is there a difference?” He turns his face to you, but the darkness covers part of his expression.

“No. I guess not.” You bring the cigarette to your lips again. Maybe another deep drag could do something about the tension gathering in your shoulders.

He chuckles, but there’s no humor in the sound. The silence lingers for an immeasurable moment and that relentless uneasiness you keep feeling around him nowadays insists on taking over.

Should you say something? Should you head downstairs and leave him alone?

“I’m sorry… about earlier,’ he eventually murmurs, and the words twist your guts.

“Please, don’t!” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t think I can handle you apologizing to me, ever…”, you whisper. Does he hear you? Can he understand where you’re coming from?

He does hear you.

“No, I mean it.” He throws the half-smoked cigarette to the floor and put it out with the tip of his shoes, placing his hands over his thigh while looking at you, “Anna, told me what you did… I wasn’t fair to you.”

God, what you want to do is to run to his lap, hold him close to you and never let him go again, saying what isn’t fair is what you did to him, what you said, what you made him feel… But you manage to gulp down that urge and say, “Don’t worry about it, it’s ok.”

He nods, going quiet again and turning his face away from you.

Your stomach feels heavy inside you and the smoke around you now only twirls it even more, so you mimic him and put your cigarette out on the floor. You don’t think you can handle the silence any longer,

“Adrianna seems nice,” you point out, crossing your arms in front of you.

“She’s perfect.” Bucky answers simply. If he knows how much the words sting, he doesn’t show it. He’s still staring ahead and taps his thighs before getting up. “Alright, have a nice night.”

You straighten up your posture, moving away from the wall. As he walks past you towards the elevator, he doesn’t look at you, but your gaze is stuck on him.

“Did she ever tell you she’s in love with you?”

Oh… you have no idea why, but the phrase blurts out from your lips. You need to know.

Bucky stops on his tracks and before he could cross the elevator’s opened doors, he briskly turns to you. “What the fuck are you saying?” His eyes narrow at you.

“She didn’t, then… It’s pretty fucking obvious, Bucky. I just thought that she’s being so perfect, she would have told you by now,” you challenge, puffing your chest and tipping your chin up defensively when he struts towards you.

“You don’t know a single thing about Anna.” He’s inches from you now and you can see the vein popping in his neck.

His inflamed eyes don’t make you budge as you stare back at him defiantly, “And what the hell would you know about love, huh?” He spits. He’s so close, you can feel the heat emanating from his chest onto yours.

“I know that she’s perfect, just like you said.” You step closer, “And I’m not. I’m far from perfect, right?”

He sizes you up before raising a brow at you, “Damn right, you have nothing on her.” He’s about to leave, but you’re quicker, grabbing his t-shirt with a balled fist where the fabric covers his chest.

“Oh, yeah? What about you? Do you love her, Bucky?”

His attention switches from where you’re holding him to your face, as you tip your head to the side, never breaking eye contact. His jaw twitches and he blinks repeatedly, scrutinizing your face. His breathing is heavy and his silence speaks for itself.

You smirk. “You don’t.” Your head shake and you sprawl your fingers over his broad chest.

He immediately brings his flesh hand over it and instead of moving yours away, he just covers it, surprising you and himself. He has you almost trapped against the wall.

All you do is move your leg a bit up to have it hooked between his. The up and down of his heavy breathing moves both of your hands and his warm touch resounds into a coil in your lower belly, leaving your heart hammering in your chest.

“No… You don’t love her. And do you know why?” you ask.

His lips are slightly parted when you dare to bring yours closer, almost letting them brush against the softness of his. “Because love, my dear…love isn’t perfect.”

It’s a split of second before his lips are on yours.

You stumble backwards with the ferocity he uses and your back meets the wall. His hands fly to cup your cheeks, holding your face fiercely to his. You cling to his shirt, before your hands move smoothly up his chest, accepting the bruising kiss with everything you have.

While his lips moves against yours in a demanding way, sucking, nipping, your fingers find room among his locks, making him groan when you pull at them a bit. You kiss him back…urgently, violently, deeply, wonderfully. You moan when his tongue tangled into yours, urging a desperate need in your body. He presses his himself tighter against you and you can feel the evidence of his neediness growing in his movements

Despite the desperation, you’re finally at ease… finally. You belong to that kiss and, for a moment, it feels like you’ve never run away from it. From him. From his love.

Breathing is only possible when he drags his lips from your mouth to your jaw. His hands make their way down your neck until they meet your covered breasts. You gasp when he squeezes them and suck harshly right over your pulsing point, then down to the valley between your breasts, your cleavage allowing him access to your skin. He’s gonna leave you bruised and you don’t fucking care.

You want him, you need him, you love him.

Your fingers are still on his hair when he drops to his knees and buries his cheek in your belly, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. The hold around you is strong, like he’s afraid you aren’t really there. His eyes are squeezed shut while, for a minute, he only stays there, holding you that way.

The touch is painfully faint when his hands glide down your hips and he dips them beneath your dress. Panting, you prop your hands flat on the wall behind you while you watch him cautiously, slowly, like he was touching something highly valuable and breakable.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear. They pop open and you yelp when he’s not careful anymore, ripping the delicate fabric and quickly bunching up your dress, leaving the remains of the ruined lace attached to one of your thighs.

His opened mouth meets your bare mound and he moves his head side to side, ravishing the delicate skin with messy and wet kisses, while his hands grip hard on your ass, pressing you firmer against him like he couldn’t get you close enough.

You gasp and whimper while his lips explore further, reaching your dripping folds, prompting your hands to go back to the back of his head. Lapping at you, he moans and your legs tremble. He hooks his flesh hand under your thigh and pulls it over his shoulder, opening you up for him, while his metal palm continues gripping determinedly on your ass. 

You look down and what you see sparkles in your needing core. You’re completely encaged in Bucky’s grasp. His eyes are closed and he hums and groans while his face is buried into your pussy and he takes his fill of you with the same ferocity he used to kiss you a few moments before. He acts like a starved man and only you can satisfy him. You’re dripping wet and he welcomes it all, like his sanity depends solely on your taste.

Meanwhile, you’re a mess.

Your hair falls over your eyes, your skin searing hot while droplets of sweat run down your forehead. You clutch his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, but you have no control over his movements. You just let him drink of you, wantonly, frantically. His tongue, lips, chin, nose…they’re deep into your pussy, ravishing you from your cunt to your clit and you know you’re about to explode from inside out.

You want him to have it all.

All of you.

He flicks his tongue over your throbbing clit and that’s it. Your head fall backwards and you cry out the most powerful orgasm you’ve felt in years.

It’s the kind of ecstasy only he’s been able to shower you with. His grip tightens on you and he takes what you give him, moaning through his own satisfaction, making the spurs of pleasure almost unbearable as your cunt clenches around nothing.

You still feel the aftershocks of your orgasm when he stands,looking down and furiously unbuckling his belt. You gather some energy to tilt his chin up and eagerly run your tongue over it, licking the remains of your pleasure from his face.

Tasting yourself on his skin makes your pussy ache all over again.

A long snarls slips out of his parted lips and he pulls down his pants and boxers just enough to free his cock.

You can’t help but look down and lick your lips when you see how rock hard he his in his hand. While you support yourself with your hands on his shoulders, he lifts your leg, and in one hasty move is deep inside you, forcing you a gasp out of you. He doesn’t wait another second before starting a feral pace, holding your leg up around his waist and brutally attacking your neck with his lips and teeth. Between ragged breathing and grunting sounds, your back bumps into the wall at the same pace he uses to shove himself into you.

Tears form in your eyes and you let them fall, tasting the salt when they reach your breathless parted lips.

It’s been so long… so long…

He backs away from your neck only to rip off your dress and tear your bra in half, exposing your breasts to the cold air. You dig your ankle into his hips as he covers your chest with his mouth and hands. He pinches, bites, sucks, licks… all while his hips keep snapping in a ruthless pace into yours. Reaching down, he rubs your sensitive clit, effortlessly bringing you to a second orgasm which trembles through your whole body.

He swallows your scream with his lips, before he leaves your mouth and rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, bringing the hand he used to coax your pleasure to your parted lips. You seize the opportunity to dart your tongue out and twirl it around his finger, once again reveling in the feel of yourself through him.

A deep grunt pours from his lungs and he holds himself with his metal arm against the wall as the other one leaves your mouth to grab your lifted thigh and pull your core even closer to him, his hips stall against yours and you feel the long hot spurts of his release as he finishes inside you, glueing his cheek against yours.

You both stay like this, like neither of you have the strength or the will to back away first. You can feel his heartbeat reverberating through your own chest and honestly, you feel alive. It’s like you’ve spent two years of your life looking for a heartbeat inside your chest and you finally found it with him.

A new turmoil washes over you as your body is numb, but also filled with contentment, hope, love…

After what feels like forever and too soon at the same time, you both hiss when he slips out of you and drops your leg. He doesn’t look at you when he steps away and tucks himself back in his pants, but your gaze never leaves his unreadable face. 

You can’t. You can’t let him go.

The hope that has swelled into you pushes you to step towards him again and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his chest to you again.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear. “I love you.” You place a kiss on his cheek, and another, and another.

You’re so lost in the overwhelming feelings which have prompted your confession that you don’t notice his muscles going rigid.

You focus only on the racing heartbeat against your chest. It’s only when he tilts his head back that you see his clenched teeth and his eyes close knit together in a mix of confusion and… anger.

You start to bring your hands to caress his cheeks, but before you can touch him, he abruptly grabs your wrists and pins them firmly on the wall above your head.

“You,” he says through ground teeth, as his hot breath hovers over your mouth and unforgiving eyes burn into yours, “know nothing about love.”

He drops your arms before he turns around and swiftly leaves, without looking back.

He doesn’t get to see the shame and dejection that etches onto your face as your heart stops with an unbearable ache. He doesn’t see when you recoil into yourself and drag your body to sit on the floor, pulling up the ripped fabric of your dress to cover your breasts as fresh tears gather in your eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, I love hearing from you!

Steve has his full Captain mode on, pointing and explaining the strategies for next mission. The details of the it mimicked in the 3D holograms hovering over the round table. Something about alien guns and dealers based on an abandoned construction site. Bucky couldn’t tell exactly. Always the same old shit. Whatever Steve’s says falls on deaf ears. His thoughts are somewhere else. Or better, someone else…

His attention is fastened on the vacant seat between Nat and Tony. As far as he remembers, you were never one to be late for briefings, especially the ones right before missions. The team should be those Natasha and Tony, alongside Steve, himself and you, but it’s been at least 20 minutes and you haven’t shown up yet.

Drifting off to the last night events he can’t believe he let that happen. When you got to the roof he thought that maybe that would be the opportunity to finally talk to you, come clean to whatever there might still lingering between you two. But like the damn coward he is, he chickened out, only for two seconds later, to fuck your brains out against the wall.

Jesus… he swears he can still taste you in his tongue, feel your velvet touch around him, the softness of your lips against his… He has no idea what came to his mind. He wasn’t really thinking. All he felt was the desperate need for you, like an addict who finally gets a taste of their drug of choice after a long time of abstinence.

Now, after the relapse, he has to deal with the hangover.

He had had no self-restraint. He was so fucking harsh on you…and you let him. He had you bare and vulnerable under his demanding touch and you let him do whatever he pleased, giving yourself fully to him, driving him fucking crazy. 

You don’t deserve this… the way he’s been treating you ever since you came back. No matter what happened two years ago, you’re not to blame for his own insecurities. You’re not to blame for how unstable he becomes when it comes to you. It’s all on him.

Regret weighs on him over the way he left you there, wrecked and alone. But why the hell did you have to go and tell him you loved him? The moment he heard you saying that, holding him between your arms, sounding so fucking sincere… his heart thundered and swelled inside his chest, begging his dazed mind to believe you, to give himself to you the same way you had just done. But in his head, the reality of what you were saying mingled with flashes of the complete abandon he felt when he realized you were gone, and then him begging you to hear those same three words years ago that day in London. If that’s the truth, if you truly love him, why did you run from him the way you did?

The sound of opening doors in front of him takes him out of his own thoughts.

“Hey, hey. Look who finally decided to grace us with her Director of SHIELD’s ass,” Tony exclaims, giving you a teasing smile.

As you walk to Tony with a tired smile and bend down to put your arms around him, Bucky can’t avert his stare from the dark circles around your eyes, which you clearly have tried to conceal with makeup. His stomach flips with shame, replaying in his head the way he left you the night before.

“How the hell did you manage to keep Pepper in a thousand years long honeymoon, old man?” You pat Tony’s shoulder wearing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes by a long shot. 

“Oh honey, I could tell you how, but Cap here would choke on his own guts, and you don’t want me to break America’s favorite toy soldier, do you?”

Nat and you chuckle and, as Steve rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond, Tony adds, “By the way, I heard last night was girls night, huh? A wild one, sugar?” He winks after giving you a once over.

As Bucky’s eyes widen, your hand flies to cover your neck in a clearly unconscious act and embarrassment etches in your face, which you quickly try to hide with tight lips.

“Ok, ok. Enough with the chit chat. Sit down, Y/N, I don’t have all day for this shit.”

Bucky thank the Gods for Natasha Alianovna Romanoff. Always saying the right thing at the right time.

Answering Tony’s grimace at her with a similar one, Nat pulls the chair beside her and in front of Bucky for you to sit, which you promptly do, delicately running your hand over your neck and not even once glancing at Bucky, switching your attention to Steve, instead, who pick up from where he’s left off.

His fists clench under the table, gripping the jeans over his thighs. The embarrassment you’ve shown at Tony’s comment feels like a punch in his guts. He’s disgusted at himself. He’s been that rough, if not rougher, with you during sex before, but this is completely different. Before, there was solely lust, desire and love behind his possessive, demanding actions. Last night there was desperation and even a twisted wish to somehow provoke harm, like some sort of retaliation… He feels like shit, like he’s taken advantage of you, like he’s truly hurt you. And hasn’t he done exactly that? 

He’s a goddamn moron, that’s what he is. Fucking you like he did, instead of acting like a grown ass man and talking to you like Anna had told him to…

Anna…

Is what you said the truth? Is Anna really in love with him? Is he really so blind?

“Are you listening, Bucky?” Steve’s voice is stern.

Bucky blinks and look around, all eyes on him.

Except yours.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He lies and nods at Steve, before his eyes seek yours again, only to see your distant gaze fixed on your hands over the table, as your fingers swiftly tug at one another. 

“Let’s go, then.” Steve commands, switching off the holograms and leading the way to the jets after everyone promptly got up to follow him.

~~~

Everything happens so fast. The place where you busted the dealers is a construction site, huge and open. The team needed to disperse in order to deal with the unexpectedly large number of hostiles, who were heavily armed with all kinds of alien weaponry and tech.

You face each one of them who dare to cross your path with all you got. You are reckless, and don’t listen to Cap’s orders or anyone else’s words of warning through the coms. If they said there was too many hostiles at a certain spot, there would be; you don’t wait when they tell you to, don’t listen when someone told you need help and can’t do what you’re doing alone. All you see is red. From the enemy’s blood or yours, you can’t tell. This is what you do best, this is you. And right no all you can be is you. And all you can do is fight without anything else in your head and your heart. 

You only stop when you finally hear his voice calling your name. He is shouting, calling for you, desperately, pleadingly, angrily. You turn around just in time to witness what happens next.

One of your opponents were right behind him as Bucky runs to you. You’re quick to take the man down with a single perfect shot from your gun, but not quick enough to stop him before he used a blaster to tear a thick piece of concrete from the construction. Your blood freeze as you see it crashing down towards Bucky’s direction. You sprint to him, screaming and calling his name, taking down whatever blurry figures that come between you and him.

You finally remember to breathe again when you finally get to him and see he has somehow managed to block the concrete, but his metal arm is stuck under the heavy block.

“We gotta get you outta here,” you pant, kneeling in front of him and pointlessly trying to move the block.

“It’s worthless, even I can’t move it.” He’s trapped with his side to the floor, holding his machine gun securely against him with his flesh hand, “There’s more coming, you gotta go,”

“Tony, Steve, where are you? Bucky’s stuck, we need you here,” You ignore him, shouting through the comms.

“I’m a little stuck myself, darling, gimme a minute.” The answer comes from Tony.

“I spotted you two, I’m coming over,” Steve replies.

And that’s when a buzzing sound catches both you and Bucky’s attention. You spot the shooter up in the building roof before the small red device attaches to the top of the block trapping his arm. Through the small screen, the countdown started: 15, 14…

“Get the fuck outta here,” Bucky screams and pushes you making you fall backwards.

You ignore the desperation etched on his face and in his voice to favor your own, as you get back up and bolts to the device, trying to pull it out of the rock, to no avail. Some damn alien shit…

10, 9…

“Steve, Tony…”

“Almost there,” Steve shouts back.

“It’s gonna fucking explode. I might be able to take it, you certainly can’t! Get the fuck out of here.” He gestures with his arm for you to go.

“I won’t leave you,” You cry out, still trying to unattach the small explosive.

7, 6…

“You’re gonna die, Y/N.” He desperately begs.

“And do you think I fucking care?” You snap, locking your gaze with his. Silencing him completely.

5, 4…

The ticking of the countdown in the background is all you can hear as you keep staring at each other.

His blue eyes are terrified and his parted lips are speechless.

3, 2…

“Back off.”

Tony’s voice makes you step back as he jumps to the device, easily hooking it off with a blast and tossing it to the sky just before the loud thunder of the explosion booms.

“Do you have a fucking death wish, Y/N? You were gonna blow the fuck up,” Tony yells at you at the same time he pulls the block off of Bucky’s arm.

You don’t answer. Steve, who has just arrived, gives you a concern expression, offering his arm to lift Bucky up who remains astonished and wordless, staring at you.

Terror still haunting his eyes.

~~~

The rides back home from missions are never cheerful. Even in victory, there’s always the regret, the feeling that more could’ve been done, the heavy weight of the casualties, the collateral damage, and the darkness that inevitably came with a fight.

However, you can’t remember ever feeling the way you feel now. The whole team is quiet; each one busy with their own demons, but also trying to digest what had almost just happened to you.

He’s sitting right across from you. You can feel the fire in his eyes burning into you. But you don’t dare to look at him.

The jet lands and you’re the first one to rush out, only nodding when Steve says he wants to see you in his office the next day.

You run to your room, leaving the door unlocked behind you. Breathing heavily, you sit on your bed and stare at the door. He will come, you know this. To scream and yell at you. Call you crazy and reckless. You know what you said and how it sounded. You’re not sure what it really meant for you, though.

But you know he won’t let this one go.

You wait for him.

~~~

It’s hard to contain the tremble on his hands as he rushes past the elevator and hurries over to the stairs, hoping the physical exertion would at least ease down a bit the hurricane inside him.

You were going to die. Right there in front of him. And it seemed like that was all you wanted at that moment. His throat is tight and he feels sick. So utterly sick at the thought. The way you came back, last night, the mission… This is not ok. You’re both a couple of fuck ups and it needs to end.

Right now. 

His heart hammers with every step as he climbs up to her floor. He needs to see her, talk to her, listen to her voice.

He needs to calm the fuck down.

Bucky’s rushed pace halts completely when he meets the door in front of him. He takes in a deep breath and runs his hand over his damp locks before bumping his fists to the wood repeatedly. 

A few seconds pass before the door opens and startled eyes meet his.

“Bucky?” She takes in his appearance, “Are you ok?”

“Is it true?” he ignores her questions, his eyes frantically analyzing her face, “Is it true that you’re in love with me?”

A small gasp slips Anna’s parted lips and her eyes widen even more while she takes an unconscious step back. He can tell she’s struggling with her mind before her jaw clenches and she straightens up her posture, keeping her gaze on him.

“Yes, it is,” she answers, simply, in a soft, yet full of resolution voice.

Bucky doesn’t even let the words sink in before he crashes his lips on hers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky have an honest conversation.

You’ve always hated Steve’s office. The colors are limited to shades of grey, the air conditioning forever set to freezing and it smelled like sweat and dirt. His desk is constantly covered in towers of papers with a thin layer of dust over it all, like it’s been ages since he went over it, because, yes, it’s obvious Steve himself doesn´t like in there either. You hate it. It always means trouble when you have to be in that room. And as a plus, the last thing you want is a one on one with the Captain when you’re tired as fuck and can’t think properly.

You waited and waited for Bucky. The whole night to be specific. Holding up to an illusion that he would want to talk to you at last, even if it was to just yell at you. But the truth is he didn’t come. Maybe he really didn’t care as much as you thought, or hoped, he still would. The other super soldier in front of you, on the other hand, could drill a hole into you with his piercing concerned stare.

“So?” You tap your fingers over his desk and raise a brow to your uncharacteristically silent friend.

“You know,” he sighs, leaning his elbows over the desk, “When Fury told me he had offered you the Director position in Europe, I was sure you deserved it, you already had a brilliant trajectory behind you,” he smiles, crossing his fingers in front of him, “But I wasn’t so sure you were gonna take the job.”

“And why was that?” Your question comes out in a rasped tone while fold your arms in front of your chest.

“Because you’re just like me,” he continues, unfazed by your defensive posture, “You hate all of this,” he waves his hands around the piles of dusting papers around his office, “You hate being trapped inside four walls, dealing with white collar people who have their own agendas, having a pen as your only weapon. You love the field, and you’re damn good at it.”

The tension slowly leaves your muscles as you hear Steve’s words, and you place your hands in your lap, refusing to look up at him. You see where this is going.

“You’re one of the best. The perfect professional, I’m not afraid to say that.” He shakes his head and leans over, closer to you, as his voice comes out small, “This is why your behavior yesterday scared the shit out of me. Out of everybody.”

Your gaze finally flicks up to him. His lips are pursed together and he stares at you with those worried blue eyes of his. You bite your cheek and look to the side, incapable to bear his stare.

“You’re a tornado on the field, Y/N. But you’ve never been so reckless, so negligent. During the whole mission, you showed so little concern as to what could happen to you and then, you said you said-”

“I meant that, Steve,” Your sudden comeback silences him and you lift your watery eyes to look at him, “I meant that,” you repeat, pressing your lips tight. You really did mean you didn’t care if you ended up dead right there. You didn’t want to admit it, but this fact also scared the shit out of you. Steve is right, you’re damn good at your job, but you were never so indifferent about what could happen to you. You were always one step ahead, watching over yourself and your teammates before anything. And you definitely have never been suicidal, not even close…

Steve reaches his hand for you and you accept it, gladly accepting the warm touch.

“Then you understand you need help to deal with it.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your answer.

It takes you a minute or two, but you finally take a deep breath and nod at him, raising your look from your joined hands to his face.

He smiles and nod back, “I’ll sign you a leave, a few months off while you see a professional, how about that?”

You hate that, of course you do. Work is your whole life and you just came back to doing what you love with the teammates you love… But you’re not stupid. And if you’ve learned something these two years after you ran away is to not ignore your feelings anymore. And, right now? Right now you feel like shit and need help.

“Ok,” you whisper, squeezing his hand back.

“Everything will be fine, I promise. Soon you’ll be back on kicking lots and lots of ass, just the way you like it.”

You chuckle softly, trying desperately to believe your friend and Captain’s words.

~~~

The list of psychiatrists and psychologists that worked for the Avengers is clutched in your hand. Steve highlighted those he trusted the most. You can’t help but feel a bit nervous about it though. You’ve been to therapy before, of course, it was protocol for SHIELD and then the Avengers, but that was all it was it for you. Protocol. This would be your first time going through the process because you actually realized you needed it.

Walking back to your room, you think about doing a little research over the names, just in case…

When you open the door, the sight before you brings you to a complete halt. The man you just spent all night waiting for is sitting on the edge of your bed. Damp locks framing his clean shaved face, like he’s just gotten out of the shower. Handsome as ever. But what makes your heart jump is the small object laying in his hand, the thing he stares at instead of acknowledging your presence.

“You know,” Bucky says, never raising his gaze to you, “I was gonna give this to you. I planned a whole big thing for when I came home from the mission.” He opens and closes the blue velvet box, the popping sound reverberating through the room.

“I know,” you admit.

His face snaps to yours. You still have your hand wrapped around the doorknob, keeping the door opened as you see the wave of emotions swaying through his expression. Your heart beat fast as you see confusion, hurt and realization.

“Is that…is that why you left?” His voice is quiet as his shoulders slump, making his naturally large figure seem nothing but small and fragile.

“No! Fuck, I mean…” You bite your lip, looking to the side briefly before your gaze is back on him, “I’m not sure… It’s complicated.”

“I’m here so we can talk, Y/n. And… and I think I deserve to know why.” 

You gulp down a dose of courage and fully enter the room, shutting the door behind you before you put the piece of paper with the numbers inside your pocket. Bucky’s eyes follow you as you walk closer and pull an armchair to sit right in front of him.

He straightens up when you’re close, fist clenched hard on the little box.

You had no idea where to begin, so you begin from the start, “We started dating, I don’t know… two, three months after you got here, right?” you tilt your head and narrow your eyes at him.

“Two,” he states confidently.

You nod slowly, “Well, my point is…You didn’t get the opportunity to get to know much about me before we started dating.” You smile sadly at him.

He narrowed his eyes and tilt his head at you. A silent plea for you to continue.

”Love was never really a meaningful word to me. It was something I said and used whenever it suited me, whenever it was useful for a mission, or… for a distraction,” Your eyelids drop and you fidget with your fingers, “I didn’t really know what love was, and now, looking back, I see a lot of my grandfather’s lessons behind it. He always taught me that love was stupid, and that emotions and relationships were a diversion from the path I needed to follow.”

His face is attentive as he listens to you. You’re aware Bucky knows who your grandfather was. The famous Y/L/N, the one who founded SHIELD alongside Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. But that was all he knew about him, you were never one to bring him up in conversations. You didn´t want your last name to precede you, you wanted your achievements to be a result of your own actions and this is how it has always been.

“I don’t blame him,” you continue, “He taught me what he thought I needed to know. He lived in a time when women had to fight for respect and for a place in our world, especially if she wanted to be a fighter, an agent. Hell, we still have to fight for that…” you scoff, “So I believed him. I believed love wasn’t for me and I was fine with it, that my job was enough and that it was all that mattered… Until you happened.”

His eyes soften and you practically melt at the beautiful blue in them, feeling a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

“You came unannounced and I had never felt the way I felt with you before.” You lean over, dying to touch him, to at least place your hands over his, but not daring to. You’re too scared of how it would feel if he pulled away. “All I wanted to do was dive into what I felt for you, just to run into your arms and forget the world. And that’s what I did. Those new feelings swelling up inside me were exciting and wonderful and perfect and I loved it with all I had.” Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, at the memory of that unforgettable time when you lived for each other, “Nothing was more important to me than you. And it was okay. Because I was in love with you.”

“What happened, then?” His voice comes out strained, as his own tears threatened to run down his face.

You sigh, “A few weeks after you left for your mission, Fury called me into his office and offered me the position in London. The same position my grandfather occupied when he died…” You can’t hold back the tears, and don’t even try any longer, your eyes are no longer on him but glued to your fidgety fingers laying on your thighs, instead, “It was everything I ever wanted to be, what I spent my whole life hearing I was destined to be. I worked so hard for it, but when Nick offered the job, the only thing I could think about … was you.” You gaze up at him, and can see how his jaw is grounded.

“I never would’ve held you back from doing what you love. You know that.” There’s a hint of aggravation in his words.

“I know. But I would’ve considered staying if you had asked. And that scared the hell out of me.” You breathe, pursing your lips in a thin line.

He blinks at your words.

“I… I asked Nick for some time to think,” you pause, struggling to voice the chaotic feelings you were going through at the time, but you need to continue. You need him to understand. “And then,it was like something changed inside me. I felt like… like I was betraying myself! Like I didn’t belong, like I was living the life of someone else, not the life I was supposed to live. Our intense, wonderful love began to feel like a weakness… I tried to fight those thoughts, I really did…”

You swallow the fear of touching him and cover his hand still gripping the blue box on his lap, you can feel the light flinch when your hand join his, his eyes following the movement, “But, then I saw you holding this the morning before you left for the mission and I lost it. I panicked and the next thing I knew I was in London.”

“I brought it with me when I came to see you…” he murmurs and lift his gaze to yours, “I hoped, I knew in my heart I would leave with you by my side, there was no other way for me…” he shakes his head.

The information falls heavy in your chest and your jaw goes slack. You screwed up so bad with Bucky, the man you love. You need to make things right, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” You can taste the salt of your tears as you speak between sobs, “I shouldn’t have run away like that, I was so mean to you that day in London, but nothing of what I said was what I truly felt, you have to know that! Please, Buck, I need you to believe me. Just give me that please, just tell me you believe me.” Your voice sounds foreign to you. The desperate pleas a far cry from the cool tone you had earlier.

His head turns to the side and he takes his hand to wipe the tears off his cheeks. He chews his lower lip and takes a deep breath before giving you a small nod.

You can finally breathe and squeeze the hand you still have beneath yours. It’s all he can give to you at this moment and you gladly take it.

“Why did you come back?” He turns to you again.

Moving over the armchair, sitting at the very end of it, to be even closer to him, smile “Isn’t it obvious?” Your knees brush against his and the electricity of the touch runs down your veins, lodging in you spine, “I came back for you. Because I love you,” you say without an ounce of hesitation, “Because the love I once thought was nothing but weakness is what really keeps me alive.”

A pained expression contorts his face as he studies you, searching, looking for something, though you’re not sure what.

“I need it to breathe, Bucky I swear to God. And I regret that day, and I know I’ll regret leaving you every single day for the rest of my life. I love you more than anything, I need you to know that.” Your heart thuds in your chest. 

He releases a restrained breath and shut his eyes briefly before leaning over. When his lips meet yours there’s no desperation, no need to devour one another. Unlike the other night, the gesture is easy, calm… loving. You bring your hand to the back of his necks and he cups your face. There’s nothing rushed in it as his mouth moves against yours, allowing you the feel the taste of your mingled tears, his velvet tongue teasing yours, warming you up, your whole body. It happens naturally, softly… As it’s a part of your everyday life. It could be one of the perfect dreams you kept having these two years separated if it didn’t felt so real, so perfectly real. 

Too soon, he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on yours, his finger lightly stroking the delicate skin of your cheeks, “I love you too, doll. I’ve never stopped.”

If you’re crying or laughing you cannot tell, all you know is that, despite not deserving them, the sweet words brighten up your whole world. He loves you. He kissed you. He called you doll, the name that had so many times made your stomach flutter and turned you into a melting mess. He still loves you and the emotion he pours into his voice seeps into your heart, filling you up with hope, with sheer love.

He keeps his forehead joined to yours and reaches to the small box that had fell on the mattress beside him when he kissed you. He wraps it in your hands, before bringing them to his lips, placing a long kiss over your knuckles.

You think you won’t be able to hold back inside the overwhelming adoration you feel for him, as he guides your hands holding the ring to rest in your lap. 

“I’ve always carried your love with me, always.” He whispers, “But I don’t want it anymore, doll.” 

Your blood freezes in your veins.

“W-what?” you stammer as you lean backwards and your eyes meet at the same time his hands leave yours.

“This love of ours… it ain’t good for us, sweetheart.” Despite the pain evident in his voice, his gaze conveys softness as he makes your world crumble, “It’s never been good for us, I can see that now… The speeding train our relationship was, it hit us with full force. I leaned too much on you… on what I was feeling for you. I put my life into your hands and I burdened you with it.”

“That’s not-”

“Shhhh,” he soothes, putting his hands over your knees and lightly stroking your skin with his thumbs.

The gentle touch only makes your tears spill harder and a lump grows inside your throat. 

“I know, sweetheart. It’s true. I burdened you with my love and I clung to you so much that when you left, I thought that was it for me.” He gulps.

Guilt crushes your chest. You’ve broken his heart, you’re very much aware of that, and now you feel like he’s only beginning to smash yours to smithereens in return. 

“There was a war inside me.” He continues with his gaze dropped to where he keeps the faint caress on your knees. “I was used to war, but that was so much worse…” The pain the memories bring seeps into his voice, making you want nothing but to hurt yourself instead. “I- I …. Someone helped me find a little peace again and everything seemed fine for a while.”

Someone… Your heart clenches. Holding the blue velvet box in your hands becomes a hard task when your fingers seem to be weakening. The lump in your sore throat making it difficult for you to say anything.

“But then you came back and all that war came back with you.” His brows furrow, still looking down, “The night at the roof, I was so harsh on you, baby, yes I was…” he insists when you try to protest, “The mission yesterday?” His gaze snaps to yours, “You didn’t care you were gonna die because you thought I was going to, and, doll, I’ve never felt terror like that, being the reason why you wouldn’t wanna live anymore… I can’t stand the thought of you feeling like that.”

“I know, I know,” You finally speak with desperation tied up to your voice, “I’ve just talked to Steve, I’m gonna find help and… and we can get help together! Right? Buck, my love, I know we can.” You choke on your words, bringing your empty hand to caress his cheek, not even thinking about how pathetic you sound, “I love you, Bucky, please, let me love you the way you deserve it, I know I can learn how to do that, I can make it up for what I did. I can…”

He shakes his head and removes your touch from his face.

The piercing ache hits your chest like a sharp blade.

“I don’t think I can go through that again. God, I don’t want you to go through all of that, either.” He runs his fingers through his hair and over his face, “You flew all the way across the ocean to run away from us, because it wasn’t good for you… What we need is to learn how to not love each other anymore. And I… I need something quiet. Peaceful. I need…”

The blade cutting through your heart twists further as realization downs when he trails off. Of course… 

“Anna?” your own whisper barely reaches your ears.

A heavy moment passes before he speaks again, avoiding looking directly at you, “I got out of yesterday’s mission so… torn up. I needed to see her. We talked and I was honest with her. She was honest with me. You were right…” The expression taking over his face is almost apologetic, “She’s in love with me, has been for a while, and… and we decided to give it a try.”

“What?” You scoff in both disbelief and anguish, the speed of your heart increasing in unbelievable speed, “But you don’t love her!” Your voice becomes louder when you state the fact you knew in your ruined heart is true.

“I do love her.” He doesn’t flinch to answer, locking his gaze to yours.

You quit breathing.

“Not in the way I love…” He licks his lips and takes in a long shuddering breath, “I know I can learn to love her back the way she deserves. She helped me find peace when I thought my life was over. Anna is what I need.” He declares, firmly, “She’s the one for me.”

So this is what it feels like. Drowning. Falling into a suffocating ocean of pain.

He keeps talking, saying something about taking some time off and staying at a small apartment he had recently bought in Brooklyn, that you and him needed to keep distance, at least for now…

Your shoulders fall and you cocoon into yourself, sinking down in your seat. You hear him, but the words are nothing but a blur swaying around in your mind. You steel yourself in your chair, grabbing at the arms of it as you gulp down the dreadful reality.

You’re losing him.

It’s involuntary when you jerk away the minute he tries to reach for your arm.

“You can do whatever you want with your love, Bucky,” you use a raspy tone to interrupt whatever he’s saying.

He stays silent, waiting.

“But you don’t have a say on what I do with mine.” Your voice doesn’t carry the rashness it had seconds ago anymore, “I won’t learn how to stop loving you because I can’t and, also, because I don’t want to. I’m in love with you and I won’t run away from this love again. I’m going down with this ship, Bucky.”

The resolution in your voice is a contrast to the abysm of anxiousness you’re sinking into. You wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t. He just keeps looking at you.

“I respect your decision, and I’ll keep my distance, I promise.” You speak, not bearing the silence any second longer. Your voice is laced with the same quiet and soft tone he’s been using to crush your hopes, “But remember, you’re the one turning your back on love this time. You’re making a mistake. Trust me, I know. I made the same one two years ago.”

With watery eyes and a tight chest, you witness his fight to hide what’s going through his head as he offers you nothing but a blank mask over his features and quietness. But you know him well. You know that, no matter what his feelings for you are, he’s determined and there’s nothing you can say to change that.

You lost him.

“This is yours.” He whispers, nodding at the box still in your hand and, without saying another word, he gets up. His steps echoes through the silent room as he rushes past you towards the door.

You keep yourself in your seat and look down at the object in your hands. Opening the velvet lid, you contemplate, for the first time up close, the small solitaire diamond inside. The stunning beauty of the rock- the materialization of what could have been- makes you swallow back a sob and it’s the final strike to your already writhing heart. 

“You found peace with her but the nightmares came back, right? They had stopped when you and I were together…” the words come out sharply before you have a chance to think.

Even if your back is turned to him, you can tell he halts at your challenging words.

“You’re gonna break that girl’s heart just like you’re breaking mine, Bucky. I know I deserve it. But does she?”

He doesn’t give you an answer before you hear the door closing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find some help.

Bucky takes a good look around his bedroom. This place brings back so many memories for him, most of them good if he’s going to be honest with himself. He has to give Steve that, joining the Avengers and coming to live in the Tower was the best decision he has ever made. Here he found a purpose in life, a way to somehow redeem himself by trying and doing some good. He found friends, set his relationship with Stark onto a better path, the same with Nat…

He met you.

And he also met Anna. 

Not willing to give the doubts threatening to bubble in his head a moment’s thought, he resumes packing up his bag. He has to do it. It’s the right decision. For all of you. Nothing else matters, not even the tug in his heart whenever he thinks of the look on your face when he told you he didn’t want to love you anymore…

A soft knock on the front door catches his attention, “Come in.” he says, grabbing a handful of socks from the drawer.

“Hey, there.”

“Hi,” Bucky smiles back at Anna when she walks into the room sporting a wide grin on her face. He loves seeing her that happy.

“Wanted to see if you needed any help?” Anna places her hand on the small of his back, “Is that all?” She asks, surprised, looking at the opened bag slouched on his bed.

“Pretty much.” He drops the socks inside the piece of luggage, before zipping it up, “I have everything else in the new place.” He sits on the end of the bed.

Anna follows him shortly, positioning herself by his side. She takes his hand into hers and enlaces their fingers together, “Good. I can’t wait to finally see your new apartment.”

He smiles tightly at her before adding, “Oh,I’ve talked to Steve already, he agreed on the time off.”

She chuckles and bumps her shoulder into his, “I have yet to see Steve denying you anything.”

He laughs quietly and gives her a wink.

“How did it go?” She asks in a more serious tone.

Bucky sighs, looking down at their joined hands. She doesn’t need to specify what she is asking about.

“Mostly well, I guess.” He shrugs, “There was a lot of honesty from both ends, at least.”

“I’m glad.” She uses her fingers to tilt his chin up and turn his face to hers again. A line forms between her eyebrows when their eyes meet, “Are you ok?”

“We kissed.” Bucky ignores her question in favor to let the information out of his chest.

“Oh…” Her smiles drops and she lets her hand fall on her lap. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hating the momentary flicker of sadness in her expression. 

“No,” Anna shakes her head, “It’s ok. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it to happen.” Her lips press together, “I’m glad you told me, though.” She squeezes his hand.

“She said something that stuck in my head.”

“And what was that?”

“She said I will break your heart.” His voice comes out strained as he gives her a pleading look, “Will I, Anna? Will I break your heart?”

Bucky watches as she gets up and moves to sit on his lap, letting her legs fall to the side. He sure hopes he’s been able to conceal how his muscles went abruptly rigid. This kind of affection still seems odd coming from Anna. Or from any other woman who isn’t you, he suspects. But he knows time would change his feelings. It has to.

If she notices anything, she doesn’t let it show.

“We talked about this last night. I’m getting into this knowing exactly how you feel.” She wraps an arm around his neck, “You’re not making a fool of me, Buck. All I know is I love you so much and for so long…” She gently caresses his cheek, “I’m willing to try. There’s no deal breaker for me when it comes to you, remember that. Besides, I know you so well… You would never purposely hurt me.”

“Never…” He promptly answers, holding her waist in a tight grasp.

It doesn’t feel so odd anymore when she smiles and leans in, placing her lips on his.

~~~

The first 36 hours after your last talk with Bucky were spent inside your room, behind a locked door. While you stared at the diamond he had left with you, every single word that had been said replaying in your mind.

When you came back, you understood you wanted nothing else but to love him, to give yourself wholly to him, you also knew, no matter how heartbreaking it would be, the chances of him not wanting you back were high. That Bucky might’ve moved on from you in the two years you spent apart.

But nothing had prepared you for hearing his confession of love then hearing him say he didn’t want it anymore, that he didn’t want to love you because your love was a bad thing. But of course it made sense. You’re the one who turned that love into a bad thing. This was all on you.

From inside the fort of blankets on your bed, you heard the callings, the pleas for you to come out alternating from Steve, Nat, Wanda…

It turns out that recognizing you need help is easier than actually going to find it.

You expected Steve or Nat, but to your surprise it was Wanda who knocked the door down. She dragged you into the shower, combed your hair, filled your stomach up with some soup…. You could see a lot of Clint into her behavior and it inspired a glimpse of warmth in your damaged heart. She was the one who found the list of therapists inside the pocket of your jeans and scheduled the first appointment.

It wasn’t easy to get to where you stand now: sticking to one psychiatrist, attending sessions regularly, talking about stuff you didn’t talk about with anyone else, taking the meds… You went through three or four professionals in a period of less than two weeks and some yelling from your friends before you stuck to Heloise Baker.

She’s the psychiatrist you’ve been seeing for the past two months, since the last time you saw Bucky. A middle aged woman, something around 5’2, with long hair that she always keeps styled in a tight bun, whose solemnity contrasts her blue highlights and loose fitted t-shirts, jeans, colored crocs and the mouth full of sass she sports on a daily basis.

You suspect that what made her different is the fact that she never puts up with your shit. While the first few therapists tried to sugar coat your flaws and tell you sweet words of encouragement, Heloise always said something that helped you understand what could be behind the facts, the actions, the words, what you had the power to change and what you couldn’t, helping you find a way to learn to live with the things you absolutely had no power over. In short, she was incredibly blunt.

“So, tell me what’s new,” she asks from the chair in front of you, adjusting her bifocals around her nose.

“You’re aware our last session was three days ago, right? What could possibly be new?” You snap, surprising even yourself by the raspy tone.

“Ooo, alright, cranky pants.” Her eyes round as she releases an exaggerated puff and writes something on her little notebook, “The bad mood is still a thing, noted. Ok, tell me about the meds. You’ve been taking them for… let me check…” The flipping sound fills the room as she turns the pages in a swift pace, “…a month now, how are they making you feel? Any headaches, sleepiness, dizziness?” She tilts her head to the side, looking back at you.

“Ahm, all of that, actually. But they’re helping with the anxiety,” you answer, matter-of-factly.

“Let’s give it another week then, if the symptoms continue, we’ll talk about trying another prescription. But I think it’s important you stick with them, at least for now. How are you feeling today? And if you say just ‘fine.’ I will kick your ass out of my office.”

You lift an eyebrow at her, which she mimics, challenging you, “I don’t know. Bored?” You shrug exasperatedly, “There’s not much to do around here when you’re not working.”

“Oh, really? There’s not much to do in the most entertaining Tower of the World? Have you met Tony Stark, dear?”

You roll your eyes and let out a snort, crossing your arms in front of you. A few moments of silence goes by before you speak again, “It’s just… I miss him,” You sigh, lifting your eyes from your lap to see Heloise’s full attention on you, “There’s not a moment I’m not thinking about him. It’s funny.” A breathy laugh slips through your nose as you shake your head, “I’ve spent two years away from him, and now two months without seeing, hearing from him seems like it’s … I mean…too much.”

Heloise makes a humming sound before speaking, “When you left, it was your choice. Good or bad, it was your choice. You wanted to run away from him. You came back hoping for the exact opposite. You wanted to be with him and couldn’t. Maybe that is the reason why it’s harder this time.”

You unfold your arms and pick at your nails over your lap, keeping your eyes low, “Yes, it was my choice. Everything else is just consequences of the choices I made. The fact I keep picturing him with another woman, holding her, kissing her, making lov-” you trail off, biting your cheek, “is nothing but my choice…” you add with a whisper and look up at her.

“I remember something you told me you said to him the last time you two talked.” Heloise squints her eyes and places her pen on her lips, as she’s going through her memory to find the words, “You said something like your grandfather had done the best he could with what he had to raise you. Can’t you see the similarity here?” She points her pen at you, “What you did two years ago was the best you could with the resources you had. Was it shitty? Yes, it was. Did it make you suffer more? Yes, it did. But it was the best you could do and there’s nothing you can do now to change it, besides learning from it.”

You let the words sink in. Although they don’t do much to ease down the guilt inside you, they make a bit of sense. You did what you understood it was more appropriated at the time. Just like Bucky is doing now…

“How long has it been since you went out with your friends?” Heloise asks, taking you out from your thoughts.

“Ahm,” you bite on your lip, thinking, “I went out for an ice cream with Sam, like, two weeks ago?”

“Ice cream?” She grimaces, “You have an assignment, I want you out with a couple of friends tonight.” She shushes you when you open your mouth to say something back, “Have a drink or two. Real drinks, not some frozen bullshit. Even if it’s for 15 minutes, just do it. For now it’s only an annoying assignment, soon it won’t feel like it anymore and then, when you least expect, you’ll realize life goes on. Loving him still or not, you’ll keep living.”

You take in a deep sigh, not sure if the fact that you’ll keep living is good news at this point or not. But you’re in therapy after all, trying to get better. You should follow your therapist’s orders. 

“Alright, deal.” You tap your hands on your thighs and get up. Another best thing about Heloise’s method is that she lets you on charge of when to finish the session. At least for now, “How much are you getting paid for this shit?” You narrow your eyes at her, with your hand on the doorknob, ready to leave.

“Probably a lot less than I deserve.” She mumbles under her breath, focusing on what she’s writing in her annoying little notebook.

You let out a chuckle before leaving the office.

~~~

A movie night at the Tower’s private cinema room. That’s the best you manage for Heloise’s assignment. She would kick your ass in your next session, but dressing up to go out is still unthinkable to you. She said it herself, it’s the most entertaining place in the world, so why go out?

At least there’ll be Wanda’s buttery popcorn and the ridiculously expensive bottles of sparkling wine Tony is adamant to have up for grabs. Your favorite combo for movies. You feel a tiny curl lifting your lips up at the delicious thought of the treat as you walk into the kitchen, where you see Wanda and Nat. The two avengers you managed to gather for the little rendezvous.

“Hey, everything set?” You ask, leaning your elbows on the balcony as you see Wanda busy with the popcorn making and Nat gathering bottles and glasses, the delicious smell of movies filling up your nostrils. .

“Almost,” Wanda answers with her back to you. Concentrated on the kernels popping on the stovetop. 

“Have you decided a movie, yet?” Nat asks, separating three glasses and placing a bottle over the balcony. 

“Ahm, no, we can decide it together there,” You smile before you frown, “Where’s everybody, by the way?”

“Vision is on a mission,” Wanda speaks, tilting her head back to look at you, “Tony is locked up somewhere in his penthouse with Pepper. Steve and Sam went out with Bucky and An-”She trails off.

The information hits your chest and there’s an awkward silence among you three, before Wanda speaks again.

“I’m sorry,” Her face scrunches up apologetically.

You don’t know what’s worse. The hurtful sting in your heart, or the pity written all over your friends faces.

After you shake your head and hand dismissively, you clear your throat, grabbing the bottle Nat has placed on the balcony, opening it swiftly. “So, they’re Bucky and Anna, now?” You speak more to yourself than to the girls, not looking directly at them, “Are they… a-are they living together?” you stammer while you pour some of the wine into the three glasses.

“Not that we’re aware of…” Nat shrugs and tightens her lips.

“Ok,” Wanda says a little too excitedly and turns around holding a huge bowl with popcorn, “Now, the final touch, Y/N’s absolute favorite: the butter!” After she places the deliciously smelling popcorn in front of you, she grabs the smaller bowl with melted butter and start pouring it down to blend it in.

“Oh, my God.” You shriek as your hand flies to cover your mouth, helping you hold back the rush of sickness threatening to run up your throat at the sight of the greasy yellow liquid.

You hate the frustration and confusion etching on Wanda’s face as she hurriedly backs away holding both bowls in her hands.

“Are you ok?” Nat narrows her eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m so sorry Wands.” You remove your hand from your mouth to speak in a soft tone with Wanda, hating that you might’ve somehow offended her, “It’s just these fucking meds I’ve been taking… They help but they’re also a huge pain in my ass, I’ve been having constant nausea, sometimes I could sleep the whole day, my appetite is a mess… And today I realized they’re messing up with my menstrual cycle, as well.” You huff, missing the way Nat and Wanda exchanged widened eyes looks.

Feeling a little hush of nausea coming through again, you grimace and place a hand on your throat before you glance at the sparkles from the wine. Hoping them would help with your unsettled stomach you grab a glass and turn it down the liquid into your mouth.

“Spit it out!” Wanda and Nat shout, in unison.

As a good agent and avenger, it’s instinctive to immediately obey when someone tells you to not drink something, and you do what your friends say before asking, making a mess on the balcony “What? Why?” You use the back of your hand to clean the corner of your mouth.

The answer that comes next, once again in unison, makes it impossible for you to keep holding back the puke inside you.

“Because you’re pregnant.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A suspicion is confirmed.

Two lines.

It only takes two little straight red lines to turn your world upside down.

You’re sitting on the side of the bathtub of the bathroom as your surroundings turn into a blurry fog and your attention is completely focused on the little white stick in your hands, the one Natasha stealthily bought for you after you puked your guts out all over the kitchen sink.

Two lines…

“Y/N? Are you ok? Can we come in?”

It takes a few more seconds, but Wanda’s voice behind the closed door shakes you out from your little stupor. You blink a few quick times and take a deep intake of air before you get up and plod towards the door. When you open it, two pairs of expectant green eyes meet yours.

“You guys were right,” you murmur as you show them the two little lines attesting the positive result, “I am… pregnant.” It’s weird when your own words reach your ears. You’re pregnant. Taking a shuddering breath, you walk past them to slump into the armchair by your bed. The stick still firmly secured in your hand.

It’s a split instant before Nat and Wanda follow you. Nat sits at the arm beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder as Wanda kneels in front of you, concern etched on both their faces.

“I can’t believe it,” the voice coming out of your lips is low, as you stare at nothing, shaking your head, “It was only one time…”

“That’s all it takes, honey,” Natasha snorts, but shuts ups after Wanda shoots a glare at her. 

“I wasn’t taking any precautions,” you keep talking as if Nat never said a word, “There hasn’t been anyone since I left and it was the last thing on my mind when I returned and… and then… that night on the roof, I- I didn’t… we didn’t…” you trail off, looking pleadingly at Wanda and then at Nat, desperately begging them for something, anything, even if you have no idea what. As your confidants and best friends, you don’t have to tell them again which night you’re referring to.

“Shhh,” Wanda sooths, taking your empty hand in hers, “It’s ok, honey. Don’t think of that now.”

“Yeah, babe.” Nat squeezes your shoulder, “We’re here for you. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

The three of you stay like that for a while, with no more words spoken. Even so, you feel the warmth of their combined presence, their silent and strong support. You feel grateful for having them, because you know you’ll need them. Being pregnant, having a child… you’ve never really thought about any of that before. Even in your best times with Bucky, all you wanted was to experience what you were feeling for him. The idea of a child never crossed your mind, even less so now, when everything is so messed up and complicated.

However…

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” Nat breaks the silence in a soft, careful voice, as if she’s read your mind. “It’s still early. You have options and…”

“I know.” You look up at her and nod. “I know you’ll both support me in whatever decision I make…”

“We absolutely will,” Wanda assures you, “Tell us what’s on your mind, dear,” Her thumb draws soft circles on the back of your hand.

“I-I,” You gulp down and lick your lips, “I think I need to be alone right now,” You give them a tight smile, “I need to think about this by myself, just for now.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda asks as a crease appears between her eyebrows, looking up at you. 

“I am.” You bite your lip briefly before continuing, “I’ll sleep on it and I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow. I’ll be ok, I promise. Is that alright?”

“Of course it is, honey.” Nat nods and gets up, being followed by Wanda, “But don’t hesitate on calling us for anything. I mean anything.” She tilts her head, raising a warning brow at you.

“Ok.” You nod, before whispering, “Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They both give you a bone crushing hug before walking out the door.

As soon as they’re out of your room you let your body fall to the backrest and the tears you’ve been holding back run down your face freely. As a small smile slowly curls up your lips you know you lied to them and even to yourself. You don’t have to think about options. Not at all. Despite the shock, you had your mind made up as soon as you saw those two lines. As much as you’ve never thought about it before, now it’s a reality and all you think about is how you can’t wait to see your baby’s face. Your baby. Your child.

Your smile changes into a blissful, watery laugh and you bring the hand holding the stick to your chest, the other let sprawl over your belly, still seemingly unchanged. The cacophony of sobs and giggles turn into one single sigh of contentment, of cheer and unexpected happiness with a hint of anticipation and even fear, you dare say. A brand new kind of fear, one you’re excited in feeling. A whole new emotion surfaces inside you. The first of many, you’re sure of it.

Bucky.

Your head snaps up at the thought of him. You want to tell him. You need to tell him. He’s the only one you want to talk to right now. You need to call him, tell him to come over, you need to see his face when you tell him.

Leaving the little stick behind, you rush up from your seat to the nightstand where your cellphone is. After you throw yourself on your bed you unlock the screen and search his number on the contacts list. You’re about to press the call button when you freeze.

That little hint of fear morphs into an ice cold dread in your chest. The doubts bubble in your mind as you remember all about your last conversation. He said he needed distance from you. What if he doesn’t get as excited as you about the baby? He’s been away for two months, clearly things are working out between Anna and him, what if he takes the news as bad news? Another thing in the way of his happiness?

The doubts, the uncertainty…they’re terrifying. You definitely don’t want him to think you expect something from him because you’re pregnant. You love him, you desperately do, but you don’t want to get back together because of some sense of obligation or anything like that.

Nevertheless… he has the right to know, doesn’t he? The baby is as much his as it is yours… He is the father after all…

You take your lower lip between your teeth, and nod your decision. He can do whatever pleases him after he finds out , but you simply can’t not tell him something this life changing and you’re too excited to wait another minute. You gulp down the anxiety creeping up your throat and press the call button.

~~~

“Dinner was absolutely delicious,” Anna exclaims, hanging her coat on the hanger of Bucky’s living room, “Sam and Steve seemed to have liked it, too.”

“Of course they did.” Bucky chuckles, “All-you-can-eat pizza is always a win with them,” he adds, sitting on the sofa. 

“And with you,” Anna mocks, taking a place beside him and holding his hand into hers, “But it’s not just that…” she adds, with a sigh, “They seem to be getting used to, I mean, us. Don’t you think?”

Bucky looks up at her and nods, bringing her hand to his lips, “Of course they are,” he says then resting their joined hands on his lap.

Her smile is soft and hopeful before she lets her head drop to his shoulder. It was the first time they had done something with other people. The news about Anna and him took most of the group by surprise and, since then, it has been… weird, to say the least. They were used to seeing her as a friend, not as Bucky’s girlfriend. But the fact that she was his former therapist is what he suspects that has been the most strange for the team…

Not to mention the fact that Bucky moving out and spending close to no time at the tower or with the whole group have also been an issue. Only Steve and probably also Nat and Wanda know about the latest events concerning you and him, and the rest of them don’t understand why Bucky felt the need to stay away.

But time has been playing its part and, slowly, his closest friends have shown their support. Like Steve and Sam, who had agreed on the dinner. But, in fact, he can’t blame them or the rest of the group for taking the news as odd and needing time to adjust when himself has been having some trouble with it… He thought the affection he felt for Anna would quickly turn into something more and hopefully rip the old feelings out of his heart.

The old feelings…

Anna has been wonderful. A lot more than he deserves. She’s been kind, attentive, patient, never pushing the boundaries not even he knew he had. She’s perfect, absolutely perfect, and he cares for her deeply, but… That’s the thing. He’s not sure what to do to erase the “but” of their relationship.

He has to change it. She deserves all of him. No “buts”. Yes, he’s been honest with her, telling her everything about how he still feels about you, everything that had happened with you before they had that talk after that mission and she accepted him, without question. Even that night at the rooftop didn’t seem to be a problem to her.

She deserves more. He has to let go of the ties that insist to hold him back from giving himself to her fully. He has to. 

“Wanna watch a movie before I go?” Anna lifts her head from his shoulder, looking at him, expectation evident in her eyes.

“Why don’t you stay tonight?” The words slip out of his mouth as he looks down at her. He has to try…

Her eyes widen for a fraction of second, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.” It feels good when her smile brings one to his lips, too.

“But, I didn’t bring any clothes…”

He quirks a playful brow at her, “And that’s a problem because…” He laughs and grabs her hand when she shoves him on his chest. An adorable blush tinting her cheeks. “Don’t worry, you can borrow a t-shirt from me.” He kisses her on the cheeks.

“Ok, then.” She tilts his head with a hand on his jaw and pecks him on the lips, “I’ll stay.”

He smiles again. That’s it. He has to try harder and everything will be alright.

“What about that movie now?” Bucky asks.

The grin on Anna’s face is unyielding as she swiftly nods.

~ ~ ~

Halfway through the movie Anna has picked, they’re snuggled together on his sofa, sharing a chocolate bar in dim lights. It’s quiet, simple and calm. Everything Bucky wants and knows he can have with Anna. He’s made the right choice.

The light of an incoming call steals his attention from the movie to his cellphone on the center table. His eyes narrow. Considering he’s on a leave from missions, he wonders who it could be at that late hour…Detaching himself from Anna’s hold, he chuckles at her whine and leans over to grab the vibrating phone.

The name on the screen causes him to freeze as he stares at it.

Y/N?

“Who is it?” Anna asks behind him.

He ignores his racing heart to tilt his head back and answer, “It’s Y/N.” His jaw clenches as the phone keeps vibrating in his hand.

“Oh,” Anna breathes, leaving the chocolate bar aside and shifting on the sofa.

“I’m not gonna take it.” Bucky answers simply, resting his back on the backrest again, and leaving the cellphone on the cushion beside him, right when it stops vibrating. He takes in a breath, and put his arm around Anna, pulling her close. He pretends to pay attention to the movie again.

Even if she cuddles back into him, he can feel the tenseness in Anna’s body. That’s exactly what he doesn’t want to happen. At the same time, he can’t help but wonder why you would call him, he told you the two of you needed to stay away. He knew he would need the distance, precisely to avoid situations like this, when his heart is jumping at the sight of your name on his screen, but having Anna in his arms instead.

His head snaps to his phone as a message alert comes in. It’s almost unconscious when his hand flies to grab the device and unlocks the screen to read your text.

“Hi, I need to talk to you. Could you come over?”

Another comes in almost at the same time.

“Alone?” 

Bucky swallows back as an attempt to ease down the lump in his throat. Looking to the other side, Anna’s seems focused on the movie, but the twitch on her throat and her tight lips are evidences that the movie is the last thing on her mind.

He has to try. This is what he wants. This is what’s right for him. He puts the cellphone back on the cushion.

10 minutes pass that contain only the sounds coming from the TV. The tension makes the air hard to breathe. Ten minutes and his phone starts buzzing again.

“You should answer it, Bucky,” Anna says in a controlled voice, turning to look at him.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’ve told her we needed space… We haven’t talked to each other in two months, I have no idea why she would call me now.”

He reaches for the buzzing phone and is about to turn down the call when Anna grabs his wrist, stopping him from doing so, prompting him to briskly turn his bewildered expression towards her.

“Just answer it and find out what she wants. It doesn’t seem like she’ll give up,” She forces a tight smile, but her tone reveals on her distress, “It’s ok, go ahead, I’ll grab some water in the kitchen.”

Bucky watches as Anna gets up and rushes to the kitchen, hating the sadness and insecurity gracing her features. Damn it, this is not how he wanted this night to be. Taking in a deep breath, he does what she told him to and swipes his finger to the right.

“Hello,” the growing frustration inside him seeps into his tone.

“Oh, ahm, Hi…Hi, Bucky-”

“Why are you calling, Y/N?” His tone remains harsh after your stammering greeting reaches his ears. The fact that the mere sound of your voice could cause his heart to skip a beat adds to his frustration.

He can hear your short gasp through the phone before you stay silent for a moment, “Ahm, is this a bad time?” you ask with a small voice.

“Yes, yes it is.” He runs his hand over his face, “I’m with my girlfriend right now. I told you we needed to stay away from each other, Y/n. I don’t understand why you’re calling.” The words blurt out of his lips as his chest grows tight and his jaw tenses.

“I-I know, but I need to talk to you. It’s really important.”

“What could you possibly wanna talk about?” Bucky barely holds back the volume of his voice. He knows he’s being a little too aggressive, a little too unfair, but he just can’t help it. He just loses control when it comes to you. Plus, his girlfriend is right there in the kitchen, probably feeling dejected and disappointed on a night when he tried to take the next step on their relationship, but now he’s there talking to you. The woman he still loves like crazy. The one he’s being trying so damn hard to forget. All of that is enough to do a number on his nerves.

He has to be firm. He has to stick to his resolve. 

“Like I said it’s really important,” There’s a renewed and defensive steady tone in your voice, “I’d rather not talk about it on the phone. I thought maybe you could stop by the tower tomorrow. Or we could meet somewhere else…”

“I won’t do any of that.”

“What?” You scoff. Your heavy breathing is loud and clear through the phone, “Bucky, I know you don’t wanna see me or talk to me. I get it, but-”

“This important thing you wanna talk about, is it about one of our friends? Work? Or does it have anything to do with us?”

“Yes, in a way it’s about us.” Your voice threatens to falter.

“Then I have no interest in it whatsoever and I won’t meet you. Please, don’t push it, Y/N.”

An endless moment of silence goes by before you ask, firmly, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He forces himself to say.

“Is this your final word? There’s nothing I could say to change your mind?” You insist.

“Not a thing in the world.” Bucky gulps down after stating his resolution.

“So be it.” Unlike your first lines through the call, your voice is now hard and tied up in determination, “Don’t worry, I won’t ever bother you again.”

He doesn’t have time to say anything else before you hung up.


	11. Chapter 11

The symphony of knocks on your door would be more than enough to wake you up, if you had been able to get some sleep at all at night. Lying on your bed, you move your forearm to uncover your eyes and see the sun peeking through the curtains. You haven’t even realize it’s morning already. The knocks grow louder, taking a low grunt out of you.

“I’m coming,” you half yell, forcing yourself up. You have to stand still for a moment, waiting for the small but annoying dizziness to go away until you manage to lumber to the door.

“Good Morning,” Wanda greets you while Nat is right beside her, holding a long glass filled with something looking like a smoothie.

“Here,” she says, handing the glass to you, “Drink it up.”

“Good morning to you, too, Ms. Black Widow,” you say, accepting the drink and bringing it next to your nose. Your eyebrows rise with surprise when the smell isn’t awful, but instead feels quite decent.

“She made it herself,” Wanda’s grin is bright, “Said it would be good for morning sickness.”

Your head snaps to your friend, stunned.You’ve never seen Nat doing anything in the kitchen that didn’t contain vodka before. She shuffled her feet, looking at the floor before looking up at you.

Nat huffs and rolls her eyes, “There’s a thing called Google these days, you know? Now will you let us in or not?”

“Oh, yes, by all means, please get in,” you jest, giving room to both of them to pass. You take a sip from the ice cold smoothie before shutting the door and guiding them to your bedroom. You hum in satisfaction and lick your lips, it truly tastes good and the coldness seems it’s really going to help with your new buddy, morning sickness.

“Wow, thank you, Nat. It’s delicious,” You exclaim, taking a seat on the middle of your bed, resting your back against the headboard.

“Of course it is,” she deadpans, positioning herself next to you, while Wanda sits on the chair in front of the bed.

“How did you sleep?” Wanda asks.

“Didn’t,” you mumble, taking another small sip from the smoothie.

It’s quiet in the room as you gulp down the cold drink. Licking your lips, you can see Wanda’s bouncing leg and Nat’s clenched fists. Their uneasiness and expectation are palpable, the need to ask but not daring to…

You let out a long sigh and ends with the silence, “I’m keeping it.” You can’t stop the small smile curling up your lips when you hear yourself saying it, “I’m keeping the baby.”

Your gaze shifts from one to the other and the previous expectation is replaced by what it seems like… surprise? Confusion? You really can’t blame them when. Actually, you were the first one to be surprised by your resolution and the feelings it’s been making surface inside you.

“You know, I’ve always heard I should be strong,” you say, resting the glass on your lap, “And I learned love, boyfriends, family… all of that wasn’t important. It was a distraction, a weakness,” you chuckle without humor, looking at your friends.

Wanda has her lips pressed tightly together, while Nat rests her head back on the headboard, her face turned and focused on you. She nods for you to continue.

“The thing is, ever since I saw that positive result and I realized I’m going to have a child, a little person to take care of, I’ve been feeling stronger and stronger. More than I’ve ever have.” You take in some air and let the smile come back to your face, tightening the grip on the glass in your hands. “I feel empowered; I feel like I could fight a thousand HYDRA agents singlehanded. I want to fight and make this place a safer and better place for this baby.”

You bring one hand to your belly as you stare down at it, “There’s a bunch of new feelings rising inside me, and I’m stronger because of it.” You nod to yourself as a single tear trails down your cheek, “I want this. I want this baby.”

When you look up, you see Wanda sporting a huge, watery smile on her face. Turning to the side, you catch the soft look on Nat, a rare and beautiful vision. Before you could do or say anything else Wanda swiftly climbs on the bed to sit facing your side and promptly puts her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. It almost makes you spill the smoothie in your hands all over the sheets, as she nuzzles into your neck. Giggling, you reach behind her to place the glass safely on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna be an auntie.” She cries out. “You’re gonna be an auntie, Nat.” She adds, pulling back to look at her.

At your other side, Nat smiles and nods to both of you, “I guess that’s what’s going to happen, huh?” She takes your hand into hers, squeezing it tightly as she adjusts her body and turn it to you, prepping a kiss to your temple.

“Oh My God,” Wanda covers her mouth for a small second before speaking again, with widened eyes, “Bucky is going to be a father. When are you going to tell him?

Just like that, the bubbling joy inside your chest freezes and you can feel the smile leaving your face as your stomach swirls.

“Well,” you breathe, “about that…”

“Y/N?” Nat frowns, as if she’s the one who can read your mind instead of Wanda, “You have to tell him,” She adds, her voice firm.

“I’ve tried to…” You let go of her hand and shift on the mattress under the questioning eyes of your friends, “I called him last night, right after you two left.” You explain, chewing your cheek before continuing, “I told him I had something important to tell him and asked if he could come over. He was a fucking dick.” You scoff and shake your head replaying the phone call in your head.

“What happened?” Wanda asks as her eyes squint. .

The wounding memory assaults you like a gunshot made of pain and anger. You want nothing except to never talk about that, but you tell them all about your last conversation with Bucky instead. “… and I told him it was important but he said he had absolutely no interest in what I had to say. He wouldn’t meet me, and there was I nothing I could say to change that. So I said nothing.” You fold your legs up and brace your arms around your knees, as one of your legs keeps bouncing.

“Oh…” That’s all that slips from Wanda. 

“Bucky’s a fucking asshole and I wanna punch his fucking guts,” Nat says, making you tilt your face to her, “However… and I know you don’t wanna hear this right now, but I have to say it,” her expression is soft, like her voice, when she talks next, “Maybe you should’ve told him over the phone anyway. This is huge, I don’t think it’s something you should be petty about.”

“Nat…” Wanda calls in a reproving tone.

You feel your features and your muscles stiffen defensively, “He said he didn’t want to know what I had to say-”

“Come on, Y/N, we all know Bucky. I’m sure if you had told him what it was about he would’ve changed his attitude and would listen, you can’t be selfish right now-“

“Nat,” you raise your hand and interrupt her, “Tell me something, if I had told you I’d rather not go forward with this pregnancy, what would you say to me?”

Natasha sighs, looking to the other way briefly, seemingly understanding your point before you even make it. She faces you again and nods, resigned, “I would have said it’s your decision to make and no one else’s, because it’s your body. You make the rules.” She purses her lips.

“Exactly,” the fight doesn’t leave your tone yet as you unconsciously move farther from her and closer to Wanda, “I’m far from perfect, but I’m not a monster. I know he has to know about the child, it’s his as much as it is mine. But this pregnancy,” You place a hand over your belly and Nat’s gaze follows the move, “this pregnancy is mine. As far as I’m concerned I owe him absolutely nothing right now.” You spit as your breathing grows erratic.

“Calm down, Y/N, it’s ok,” Wanda tries to soothe you, resting her hand on your shoulder.

“Picture that:” despite Wanda’s efforts, you keep on with your rant without taking a breath, eyes bored into Nat’s as she doesn’t make a single move to interrupt you, “Despite my fears, because, yes, I was damn scared of his reaction when he knew, I called him. The guy is fucking annoyed by my mere voice even if it’s the first fucking time I’m calling after two months of complete radio silence and says he wants nothing to do with me or what I have to say…” you blink rapidly, replaying the words in your head.

Nat’s eyes downcast and she folds her arms in front of her.

“What did you expect me to say after that? Hey, guess what?” You change your voice into one filled of fake cheerfulness, “You want nothing to do with me? Ha ha, not happening because I’m fucking pregnant?” You let out a huff, “I know it seems petty and selfish, and maybe it is, but I don’t care. He crushed me last night, I felt like shit. I don’t need this right now.”

“We get it, dear. Please, just try to breathe.”

Wanda finally gets your attention as you turn your watery eyes at her and do what she said, taking in and out deliberately long and slow breaths. You’re not sure what’s stronger inside you, the anger of being confronted, the sadness from the memory of being rejected when you were so excited about the news, or the shame for being called out on something you know you could’ve handled better…

“I know he’ll find out eventually,” you speak again, this time calmer and steadier, “And that’s ok,” You turn to Nat again, “That’s really ok.” You nod at her, wanting her to believe what you’re affirming, “It’s not even about him, it’s about this kid who will deserve their father to at least know about them, no matter if he decides to take part of this or not.” You lazily caress your belly, looking down at it, before addressing to Wanda, in a small voice, “He didn’t seem like he would be happy about it last night and I wouldn’t bear that at that moment, when I was so excited on finding out.”

Her hand is tight and comforting warm on your shoulder. You wonder if the gradual serenity growing inside is her doing…

You give her a tight lip smile, before continuing, staring ahead and avoiding both of their looks, “This pregnancy is something entirely unexpected and new for me. I need peace to live through this, to learn how to be a… a mother.” You pause when the word comes out of you. The tension in your throat from holding back tears becomes too much and you let them free, feeling the heat of them running down your face before hastily wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand.

Wanda and Nat settle in silence, letting you take the moment to yourself and articulate your thoughts again.

“He doesn’t want the drama of loving me into his relationship and I don’t want it while I’m pregnant, either.” You sigh and nod to yourself, “Right now, the only people who know about this are in this room and I wanna keep it that way, at least for a while.” You look at one and them at the other, receiving reassuring nods in response, “I’m dealing with this alone. It’s just me and my baby.”

“You’re not alone.” Nat finally breaks her silence.

You turn to her and exchange a wordless conversation. One of the many you two have had during your friendship. Full of understanding… Despite your rant, you’re glad for having her, the friend who won’t accept your bullshit and will always bring you to reality. But you’re also glad you were able to make her see you side of things too. Her eyes are tearing up as she shrugs and twists her mouth. Definitely another “non- Black-Widow” look.

“I’m sorry.” She mouths to you.

You extend a hand to her, which she accepts promptly.

“Of course you’re not alone.” Wanda covers the hand over your belly with hers, resting her head on your shoulder. 

You sigh, feeling more at ease with their support, “Sooner or later he’ll know, and then I’ll deal with whatever comes from it,” you whisper.

“We’ll be here for you,” Nat reassures.

“You have to tell Heloise, though.” Wanda raises her head from your shoulder and you look at her, “She needs to check on your meds and, oh,” Her eyes round as she’s remembering something, “We need to schedule an appointment with an obstetrician or will you prefer a midwife? We have to think about this.”

“Yes.” You nod, smiling, loving how she uses ‘we’, “All of that. And Nat will have to make me one of those every morning.” You point at the up till now forgotten smoothie on the nightstand.

Nat only grunts her response.

~~~

A couple of days passed until you managed to set up an appointment with an obstetrician you three agreed was qualified enough. You didn’t want to see any of the doctors from the tower yet, due the risk of being exposed, but considering the super soldier status of the father, you pondered that soon a doctor with more know-how on the matter would be safer to your baby.

If, even for a second, you thought you would go through this alone, you were so very mistaken. Wanda and Nat went with you to the appointment and acted like a couple of helicopter moms, asking questions, exposing your bad habits and taking notes on all the recommendations and prescriptions.

They were there during the first ultrasound as well. You’re 9 weeks into the pregnancy and the moment when you see the tiny, almost imperceptible smudge on the screen and hear its accelerated heartbeat was the moment you remembered you had a heart too. You felt alive and strong. More than ever. There were tears and laughter while Wanda and Nat held your hands. The doctor offered pictures of your little bean and they wanted one copy each.

You took two home…

As the days pass, keeping the secret has become one of the most difficult things to do. All you want is to scream to the World and especially to your friends about your baby. But you decided it was to best to keep it to yourself so you stick to your plan, avoiding meeting anyone on the mornings, while the sickness was worst, avoiding get togethers to drink and also going to the gym with everyone else, since you’re not allowed to do heavy exercises, and explaining why would be a handful.

At least you have Wanda and Nat to talk about everything. Oh, and Heloise. You told her on your very next session and you were relieved when she told you the medication she had prescript before were safe to use during pregnancy.

Now, obviously, the main subject in your sessions has been your pregnancy.

“Have you talked to Bucky again?” She asks, studying you from above her glasses.

“No, and I don’t wanna talk about it.” You straighten your posture on the chair, “I haven’t even been thinking about him, to be honest.” To your own surprise, you’re saying the truth. Bucky hasn’t been in your mind lately, even though you know it won’t be for long.

“No? And what have you been thinking about?”

Looking down to your lap, you watch yourself fiddling with your nails. You twist your mouth to the side before you bite your lower lip. The thing is that since finding out about the baby the excitement that came has lessened, and the little hint of fear has become a monster inside you, lodging in your thoughts.

“I’m gonna screw this up, I know I will.” You blurt it out in an exasperated voice, looking up at Heloise again, who quirks a questioning brow at you, “Do you know how many time I’ve hold a baby in my life? None. Zero fucking times. I have no idea how much a baby weighs, where would I even put my hands…what if I drop them?

“Y/n-” Heloise tries to get your attention.

“Their bodys are so fragile and tiny,” You watch your hands as you shape them to mimic a newborn’s size, “What if I hold them the wrong way and hurt them?” Their little neck seems so soft … What if I don’t have breast milk?” You bring your palm to your forehead, staring at nothing as you keep your frantic questions, “What if they choke up while I’m feeding them? Oh my God…” You pant and your hand drops to your mouth briefly, “I haven’t thought of that before…”

“Y/n-” Heloise tries a little louder.

“Besides, I’m fucked up,” You scoff and shake your head “The only logical thing is I fuck up with this baby’s head too, I know I will… And I’m doing this alone, the girls are amazing but at the end of the day, I’m the mother, the responsibility is mine, oh fuck-”

“Y/N!”

The yell coming from Heloise is enough to stop your monologue, as your wide eyes snap at her.

“My dear, Y/n,” She says, calmly this time. You stare as she scrunches up her face and rubs her temples while still holding her pen. “You’re gonna give me a headache.”

Your head tilts as you squint at her, watching as her hands drop from her head and she writes down something on a blank page of her little notebook.

“All valid concerns.” She keeps writing as she speaks, “But, as qualified and amazing as I am-”

You sigh.

“I can’t help with all of them. So, here’s something I think it’s going to be perfect for you.” She finishes writing and rips off the page, extending it to you.

With the page in your hands you read an address in it.

“It’s a support group for…” she ponders for a moment, “parents without a partner.” Heloise seems pleased with her choice of words.

Your eyes roll, “You can say single mother.”

“And hurt your pregnant feelings? Never!” She mocks outrage, placing a hand over her heart, “Besides, it’s not just for mothers, there are fathers there as well.” Her face light up as if an incredible idea has come to her mind, “Oh… this might be even more interesting than I thought…” She smirks and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

Catching her meaning, you huff, lying back on your chair, “Jesus, Heloise, I’m pregnant…” 

“My point exactly. Just wait until the pregnancy hormones hit you hard and leave you horny as fuck. Then we’ll talk.” She states with a straight face, pointing at the walls behind her with her pen.

“Will this be helpful? For real?” You ignore her comment.

“It will.” She speaks more seriously, “A friend of mine is the mediator. She’s a specialist. Trust me.”

“Well,” You fold the little paper and reach behind you to tuck it in your back pocket, “I’ll give it a shot.”

~~~

“Dear God, Steve, can you just stop?” Bucky huffs, interrupting whatever his friend had been saying. 

“Stop what?” Steve asks from across the table, gulping down his coffee as he rests the cup back on the wooden surface. He looks at the man across the table with his brows furrowed in confusion.

Bucky waves his hand around his friend, “Doing whatever it is you’re doing to make the staff and customers here all so damn fuzzy. Can’t you hear the whispers? The dirty mind in these people…” Bucky glances up to the ceiling of the small coffee shop and puffs, before taking a sip from his own coffee.

A rush of red creeps up Steve’s pale neck to his ears, but he still manages to give Bucky a small cheeky smile and shrug, “Can’t help you with that, pal. I’m doing absolutely nothing.”

“Show off.” Bucky scowls.

Steve chuckles, “I miss this, Buck. It’s been a while since we last went for a run and coffee together.”

Bucky flicks his eyes up to him, before dropping them to his hands playing with the cup of coffee, “You’ve seen me a week ago, at the pizza house.”

“Yeah, I know, but I miss this.” Steve shakes his hand back and forth, “You and me only.” The smile curling his lips has a touch of nostalgia, “And I miss you in the Tower. Everyone does.”

“I know,” Bucky agrees softly and glances at his friend, “It’s the same for me. But I need this time away, you know I do.”

“Yeah, yeah… but for how long?” Steve forehead creases, “How much time away will you need? Two years didn’t seem to be enough before…” he trails off.

The not so subtle hint dropped doesn’t slip from Bucky’s attention. His jaw clenches and he shots a warning glare at his friend, “Just don’t, Steve.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Steve raises his hands to the air in a sign of surrender, “I don’t wanna fight with you.” He leans his elbows on the table and takes a good look of his friend, who grabs his coffee for another sip, “How do you like the new apartment? How’s Brooklyn?”

“Not the same. Too crowded. Too loud.” Bucky answers grumpily.

“Yeah, nothing is the same these days.” Steve sighs, “Have you been sleeping well?” He nods towards the evident dark circles around Bucky’s eyes.

“They haven’t stopped,” Bucky breathes, knowing what Steve’s question really is about, considering he was the one – besides you, of course- who had been helping him through constant nightmares back in the tower, “Anna spent the night one of these days… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t able to get a wink of sleep that night, to be honest…”

“Oh yeah, and what kept you awake?” Steve asks, before bringing his cup to his lips.

“Y/N called.” Bucky clears his throat.

“Really?” Steve’s eyes well up “What for?” He leans over, giving Bucky his full attention.

Bucky focus on his fidgeting fingers over the table. “She… it seemed like she had something to tell me. But I- I didn’t let her speak.” He can’t help the shame fastened on his voice. He glances up at Steve, “Do you have an idea of what she wanted to tell me? Is she… is everything ok with her?”

“Now I’m allowed to talk about her?” Steve asks, tilting his head.

Bucky grimaces impatiently. “Come on, stop being a punk.”

Steve taps on his thighs and leans back, “I don’t know, but now that you mentioned, I haven’t really been seeing her much these days…Last time I bumped into her she was leaving the tower early in the morning with Nat and Wanda. They seemed to be in a hurry…”

“Would you… would you check on her?” Bucky’s shoulders slump and his voice is small, almost pleading, “I was kind of a jerk and didn’t listen to what she wanted to say. It could be important. Just… just see if she’s ok. But, please don’t tell her I asked.” Bucky swallows.

After you hung up the phone he had felt like throwing up. He was disgusted at himself. You called in the middle of the night, two months after no contact at all and he didn’t have the decency to at least try to listen. He treated you like shit, instead. You said you wanted to meet in person… But he is terrified to meet you…He’s afraid of himself in your presence. The thing is he made a commitment with Anna and he knows it’s what’s best for everybody if you two stay away from each other. But he simply can’t shake off the feeling that you might be needing him and it’s been killing him inside. 

“Of course,” Steve’s voice brings him back to the present. “But I don’t see why you don’t do it yourself.” Steve shrugs, folding his arms in front of his chest, “And maybe you could apologize for being a jerk, too.”

“Steve…” Bucky groans and his head drops.

“No, Buck I mean it. Sorry but I can’t stand still and quiet while I see my best friend being such a thickhead dumbass. This little arrangement of you and Anna…” He points his finger at Bucky “It will only make things worse, can’t you see?”

“I thought you liked her.” Bucky snaps.

“And I do. We all like Anna.” Steve adds, “She’s always been sweet and all, but I don’t know.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head lightly, “She used to be your therapist for fuck’s sake. Have you forgotten about that?” Steve opens his arms in a questioning sign, “Don’t you think this is at least a little messed up? I mean… I’m not saying she’s doing something deliberately… It just seems like she’s so in love with you she doesn’t even realize she’s getting into a dangerous territory. Besides, you don’t love her that way and you’ve been lying to yourself if-”

“I don’t get you, Steve. Whose side are you?” Bucky cuts him off, tilting his chin up and crossing his arms over his chest, staring at the other man.

Steve’s expression softens, but the concern still traces his face and voice, “You know damn well whose side I’ll always be on. I just think there’s no way someone won’t get out of this hurt…Odds are it’s going to be the three of you.” 

“Listen,” Bucky breathes in before he gets up. He stops right beside Steve and puts a hand on his shoulder, “Just check on her, will ya? And then give me a call.”

He pats Steve’s shoulder and walks away, leaving his frustrated and worried best friend behind.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has a party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really really sorry for the long ass wait! I'm the worst! I hope I still have your attention. Please let me know what you think of the chapter!

You clutch tightly the little paper with the address Heloise gave you, before shoving it inside your purse. You grab the strap hung on your shoulder, counting down the floors numbers as the elevator descends to the garage.

A goddamn support group.

Life truly is a little box of surprises, you realize for the millionth time lately. If you’re going to be honest, you’ve never taken these groups as something you would willingly join, or even take seriously. But then again, you’ve never seen yourself as a single mother. Or a mother at all. Yet, here you are.

You’re still deep in thought about your unexpected fate when the elevator dings and the door opens. You begin to step outside, but before you can go any further you bump into a broad structure.

“Whoa,” Steve grabs your shoulders, steading you, “Hey there, stranger,” He grins down at you.

Your nose scrunches up. When the hell has Steve started wearing cologne? Oh, yeah, since forever. But you weren’t so damn pregnant to be bothered by it before, “Hey, Steve.” You gulp down the nausea, pressing your lips tightly at him.

He steps to the side and smoothly blocks your passage when you tried to walk past him. “Where’ve you been, it feels like forever since we last talked?” He asks, fumbling with the keys of his bike.

“Ahm, I’ve been… around.” You hold your breath so that Steve’s cologne doesn’t keep messing with your stomach too much.

“Hm,” he narrows his eyes.

You shift on your feet. The heavy weight of Steve’s suspicious stare lodges on your shoulders, “I’ve been working on myself, Steve. Just like we’ve both agreed.” His eyes soften when you speak, “Besides you’re the one who has just gotten back from a long mission. How was that, by the way?” You divert the subject, but you know you have to get out of there as soon as you can. If that woody scent hits your nostrils one more time, Steve’s white shirt would be ruined. And you’ll have a lot to explain.

“It was a nightmare,” he grunts and shakes his head, “If you were there things would’ve been very different.” He smirks.

“I guess you’ll have to wait a little while,” you chuckle, wondering for a second when will you be able to be on a mission again, giving your interesting condition. The woody scent twists your stomach once again and you grimace, “ Ugh… ahm, good to see you, Steve, see ya around,” You move to walk past him again, still working on not throwing up on him and hoping he thinks nothing of your hurry.

“Are you feeling ok, Y/N?” Steve cocks his head and steps to the side again, blocking your passage “Where are you going? It’s almost dinner time…” He studies you carefully,

“I am… ahm,” Fuck why the hell is it so hard to lie to Steve? “I’m good.” One lie. “I-I’m going to this group thing my therapist recommended.” Not a lie. 

“Oh…ok…” He seems lost for a while, “Oh, hey, do you want me to give you a ride?” He wiggles his eyebrows, “We can catch up on the way.”

Now you’re the one frowning at him. Why the hell is he being so insistent on hanging out with you?

“I’m ok, Steve, thanks. We’ll catch up later. I have to go now.” You talk fast and swiftly dodge him when he once again tries to keep you in place. 

“Alright then, but, hey,” he talks from behind you as you rush to your car, gladly freeing yourself from the cloying scent and Steve’s interrogation, “My birthday is coming.” The reminder makes you stop on your tracks, “You know how Tony is… I’ll see you there, right?”

Oh, yes. Steve’s birthday… You had forgotten all about that. Giving it’s 4th of July, Tony always makes sure to throw a huge party, with fireworks and everything. Steve hated it. That prompted the whole team to always make sure to be there for him.

“I don’t know, Steve…” You look back at him and shrug, ready to turn down the invitation.

His face falls at your answer, “Ah, come on. You have to.”

You have absolutely no doubt Bucky will be there, too. No matter how many rules he invents about staying away, Steve needing him will always be a priority. He will be there. But, to be real, you don’t need the smell of Steve’s cologne to make yourself sick now. You could say no and just leave, but then again, you really don’t wanna hurt Steve and it would mean more questions…

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” You briskly answer with two thumbs up before sprinting to your car.

As you speed up and the garage doors open for you to come out to the streets, Steve stays in his place. Watching you. He grabs his phone from his pocket…

“Hey, Buck.” He greets after his friend answers the call in a heartbeat, “Yeah… Something is definitely up.”

~~~

When you become aware of your bouncing leg, you place a hand over your thigh to stop it. People are still settling down and accommodating themselves on the chairs forming a circle in the ample, illuminated room. They are chatting and talking friendly to one another as they sit down, seemingly unbothered by the presence of a new participant. Amara, the facilitator, and one of the nicest women you’ve ever met, has welcomed you already and told you be comfortable.

You decide to sit and wait, instead of socializing. She seemed to know who you were already and it’s something you hadn’t realized earlier. You’re an Avenger. Whether you like it or not, the Avengers are quite a famous group nowadays and it wouldn’t be a surprise that people would know who you were. Amara seemed to notice the concern seeping into your face and explained the group had a strict ethical code, including a secrecy policy. It eased down your worries momentarily, but if you wanted this pregnancy to be a secret for now, maybe joining the group hasn’t been the smartest choice.

“Ok, everyone,” Amara firm, but sweet voice resounds around the room and the chattering noise ceases down, “Let’s get started. Tonight, as you all can see, we have a new member on our group. Do you wanna introduce yourself, dear?”

A warmth creeps up your neck as all eyes turn to you and a few smiles pop up. You’ve never minded attention, but tonight, for some reason, it makes you wanna shrink down to the point of invisibility.

“Hi,” you say, waving quickly, before trapping your hands between your crossed thighs. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N…” You choke and can’t say much else and you don’t even have to reach out for Amara before she saves you.

“Welcome, Y/N. We’re really glad to have you here. Now, Meg, you asked before we started to share something with the group…”

The attention changes from you to this woman Meg, who tells the group she has done her third insemination procedure, which would be the fourth child she would have solo. It is a mixed up group. There are women of different ages, some of them pregnant and there were guys there, too. As you hear the different stories, troubles, achievements, and see how the members of the group truly support one another, you feel more confident and willing to share.

“Anyone else?” Amara asks, when George finished telling about the first week he spent alone with his little girl after he and his ex-wife decided to share custody.

“Ahm, yeah,” you raise your hand timidly and all attention is yours again. 

Amara nods for you to continue.

You join your fingers over your thighs, “I’m twelve weeks into my first pregnancy.” You smile when you hear words of felicitations. “I’m not gonna lie. I didn’t plan this… But as unexpected as it was, and as new as it is for me, I simply can’t imagine myself without my baby anymore.” You take a look around and watch the nods and smiles, agreeing and encouraging you to go on.

“The father, well, he’s not around. He doesn’t know yet, it’s… it’s complicated.”

“That’s ok, dear.” Amara says, signalizing you don’t need to explain it further, “I told Y/N about our secrecy policy.” She addresses to the rest of the group.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us.” One of the guys adds.

“Thank you.” You say, “My therapist recommended this group after I attacked her with a rush of doubts and worries… I mean, as happy as I am, this is so new to me. I have so many fears and I’m not sure I’d be able to handle this alone. I hope and, I guess, now I know you guys will be able help me with that. I mean, Meg, you’re my idol. You have four now? How can you do it? It’s amazing.” You point out. “So yeah, that’s it. I’m happy I’m here.”

A loud thud coming from the doors grabs yours and everyone’s attention as startled faces turn towards the sound. There you see an alarmed guy making his way inside the room, but stopping on his way as he meets the wide eyed eyes stares from the group.

“Oh, shit,” He mumbles to himself before looking up at the group again, “Hi, everyone,” he waves shortly, as he cautiously walks towards the circle. His disheveled short hair and ragged breath showing he’s been in a hurry, “I’m really sorry.” The blush on his cheeks becomes evident when he’s closer and takes a seat, “My sitter was late again…” he explains, “That teenage little devil”. He mutters through his teeth, before cringing at Amara.

“Hello, Harry,” Amara greets him, “We’re glad you could make it anyway. We were just listening to Y/N, our new participant.” She raises a brow and nods towards you. The way she doesn’t chastise him for being late is an example of the comforting vibe you’ve been getting from the group. No judgments, just understanding and acceptance. After all, if it’s a support group for single parents, everyone supposedly knows the struggle. 

When Harry spots you he cringes again and mouths an apology to you. His clumsy disconcertion makes you chuckle.

“It’s ok.” You shake your head dismissively to Amara, “I guess I’m good for tonight.”

She then passes the word to Harry, who seems relieved to be able to talk. He engages into a nonstop rambling about the “teenage devil” and her propensity for shows like Riverdale, if only she put as much effort into school and responsibilities as she did knowing the backstory of each and every character…Maybe he wouldn’t be also coaching her through her algebra homework. A perpetual shade of red darkens his neck, as an evidence of how much he needs to talk, but the attention seems nothing but unsettling for him. As he does talk, you learn he’s a father of a couple of three year old twins, a girl named Luna and a boy named Jon, who’ve been watching Peppa Pig in a loop and refusing to eat vegetables without a dessert bargain.

He talks fast and uses his hands a lot. He’s wearing a Darth Vader white t-shirt over some black, washed jeans. You’re sure you can see what it seems like a chocolate stamp on his t-shirt –probably in result of one of those dessert bargains. He’s not particularly built, but by his physique you assume he finds time to go to the gym or something. You can’t say the same about shaving, giving the light, messy scruff growing on his jaw. He is unkempt, his brown hair is short and fluffy, like a puppy who, after a whirlwind day of excitement couldn’t be bothered with something as inane as grooming.

You can’t stop the small smile on your face. 

When he’s finally done, Amara calls for a coffee break, which is more than welcome since you realize you’re actually starving. Unashamedly, and relying on the pregnancy excuse, you bolt to the table and help yourself with the most appealing cinnamon buns you’ve ever seen. You grab two for good measure and walk away from the table. 

“Hey.”

Chewing, you lick the sugar from your lips and turn around to see Harry, with the same apologetic expression he held when he got in late, holding a cup of coffee.

“Hi,” you answer after swallowing down.

“I’m really sorry I interrupted you when I busted in.” He says, scratching the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to make so much noise and take the attention out of your moment to share. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, no.” You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s ok. I was done talking, anyway. Don’t worry.”

He lets out a relieved sigh, “Can we start over?”

“Of course, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.” You extend a hand and offer him a smile.

“Very nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Harrison Graham-Ford.” He accepts your handshake, “But you can call me Harry,” he swiftly adds, letting go of your hand.

“Wait…“ You squint and dip your chin, "As in… Harrison Ford?” You bite your lip, holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, I know,” he grimaces, “My mom thinks she’s funny, but she’s just a Star Wars nerd.” He shakes his head.

You lift an eyebrow at the same time your eyes drop to his Darth Vader t-shirt, already feeling the laugh bubbling up your chest and curling up your lips.

His eyes follow yours, before sighing and looking up at you, “Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He shrugs and it makes you laugh, which he follows with a shy smile.

“It’s cute,” you say, before taking another bite of the pastry in your hand.

A shade of red flushes up from his neck to his face at your comment as the shy smile is stuck on his lips. You can’t help but find it adorable. You feel your chest lighten with the small exchange with him so far, lighter than it has been for a while.

“How many do you have?” He asks, after taking a sip from his coffee.

It takes you a moment to understand what he’s referring to, “Oh, just one. Right here, actually.” You point to your belly.

His eyes light up, “Yay, congratulations!” Harry raises a hand and you grin, corresponding to the high-five, “Welcome to hell.”

“What?” you yelp.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He giggles, “Well, sort of. It is hell, but a hell I wouldn’t trade for nothing in this world.”

You chuckle, bringing the last piece of your cinnamon bun to your lips. There’s a deep fondness in the way he speaks that you’re only beginning to understand. You wonder what circumstances could have turned him into a single father of twins, but you decide to keep it to yourself, not wanting to be invasive. 

“So, what do you do for a living, Harrison Ford, besides chasing after ancient relics, of course?” you smirk.

He grunts playfully at you, before answering, “I’m a computer engineer. Yeah, I know, don’t hold back your excitement,” he jokes, “What about you?”

You bite your cheek, taking your time to think of an answer, what’s the right thing to say here? Should you straight up say you’re an Avenger? “I, ahm, work at a security organization. But I’m on a break now.”

“Oh, security, really? National?”

“Ahm, universal would be a more appropriate term.” You answer, matter-of-factly.

“Ha, you’re an Avenger, then.” He laughs, obviously thinking you’re joking, but when he catches your tighten lips, he squints his eyes, which widen when realization downs. “Y/N Y/L/N! You are an Avenger.” His voice comes out in a squeaking tone.

“Yeah,” You sigh, “That I am.”

“Oh my God. I’m so stupid,” He smacks his own forehead, making a face, “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first, but of course I didn’t, when would I imagine to find an avenger here. An avenger…” His arms rise in disbelief and he almost spills his coffee in you, “Wait.” He goes quiet for a moment, as if there are dots connecting inside his brain, before his jaw goes slack, “You know Captain America.” He whispers, pointing a finger at you.

“I do.” You respond, watching his reaction with amusement.

“Jesus Christ,” He covers his mouth with his hand, “I’m talking to someone who knows Captain America.” All the color from his face is gone and he continues rambling, gesticulating like he did before at the circle, “I’m actually speaking with someone who speaks with Captain America. You exchange words with him, actual words. Look,” He grabs his phone from his pocket. Taking a step closer, he unlocks screen, turning it to you.

You see a picture of him, and two little kids, a girl and a boy, who can only be his children, dressed in full Captain America’s suit pajamas. They’re gathered in an embrace, sporting huge grins on their faces. The sight causes one of your own to form on your face.

“I take it you’re a fan?” You note, as he puts his phone back.

“What?” He squeezes his eyes and shakes his head quickly, “Who isn’t?” Harry exasperates, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “God, I have so many questions, I mean, what does he have for breakfast? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It’s weird, I’m not a weirdo, I promise. Please don’t tell him I’m a weirdo.” He pleads. 

“I bet he’s seen worse.” You let out a chuckle, “Hey, you know what. His birthday is in a few days.” You point out.

Harry snorts a laugh. Of course he already knows that.

“There’ll be a party at the Tower.” you continue. It isn’t uncommon for Tony to invite a few of Steve’s fans to celebrate his birthday, the ones who are not bat crap crazy at least and Harry seems to be pretty sane compared to a few others you’ve met, “Why don’t you come by? I surely can add your name on the list and you can ask him in person what he eats for breakfast.”

“Are you serious?” He gasps and you’re pretty sure he’s about to faint.

“Sure. That’s not a party for kids, though. I’m sure Steve will be more than pleased to arrange something another day…”

“Pfff, they don’t care about him. I force them to use the pajamas. They’re Iron Man kind of kids.” He rolls his eyes before continuing, “I’d really love to, Y/N. But, are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Yeah. Just, ahm, this,” you wave your hand around your belly, “I still haven’t told about this to everyone there yet, I have to ask you to be discreet.”

“Of course.” With his hand, he mimics a zipping move on his mouth.

“Ok, then.” You smile, “Give me your number and I’ll let you know about the details.”

Look at you. Exchanging phone numbers with a guy on your first day at the support group. Heloise will be proud.

~~~

Oh, Steve’s gonna hate this party. It’s everything he loathes: crowded, loud, extravagant and expensive. You don’t personally know almost anyone there, but from the seat on your table, you see a lot of famous faces. Actors, actresses, singers, politics, business people… Drinks and food are offered in exorbitant amounts and variety. A fancy DJ takes over the music on the dance floor while dancers and other entertainers put on their shows around the room. Classic Tony Stark. It will always be this way. Tony thinks Steve needs this kind of excitement and Steve doesn’t wanna hurt Tony’s feelings by turning it down. Two fools who adore each other but refuse to express themselves…

Except from Steve, who you spot across the room, as red as a tomato, surrounded by a number of beautiful girls, you end up being the first one of the team to get to the party. Not that surprising if you consider the anxiety ruling your feelings the whole day and the lack of disposition to put an effort on getting ready. You’re probably gonna see Bucky here. It’s been three months now, and you have no idea what to expect if you actually see him. With Anna. Will she be there, too? You scoff at yourself. Of course she will. She’s his girlfriend, after all…

Will he even talk to you? Will you want to talk to him? Given your last interaction you seriously doubt that would happen. But if it does… would you be able to keep your secret? Is that something you really want? Keeping your baby as a secret?

“Hey, beautiful,” Wanda finally arrives to the table you’ve been occupying alone, sipping from your non-alcoholic cocktail.

“Hi, there yourself,” you greet back as she sits by your side, “Where’s Vision?”

“Ugh, he’s working on his human form, I just couldn’t wait anymore.” She rolls her eyes, “You look amazing,” she compliments you, after leaning back on her chair to give you a once over.

You chose some old black dress from the depths of your drawer. The fabric is loose from your chest line down to your knees. Your body hasn’t changed that much yet, but observant eyes could notice some details here and there, making you opt to something which would somehow disguise the little changes. You smile back at Wanda, not really believing her compliment. Without noticing, you bring your thumb to your lips, biting your nail.

“Why are you nervous?” Wanda asks.

“You know why.” You keep biting on your nail, only stopping when Wanda gently pulls your arm down, making you look at her.

“Have you seen him, yet?”

You shake your head no, “Have you?” you mutter.

She also gives you a negative answers and a small silence settles between you two, before she breaks it, “How was the group thing Heloise recommended?”

“It was pretty nice, actually.” You acknowledge, swinging the straw on your drink, “I made a friend there.”

“Really?” Wanda beams, “What’s her name?”

You laugh at her assumption, “His name is Harry. I invited him to come tonight.” You take the straw to your lips to take a sip from your drink.

“What?” The small smirk on her lips is nothing but malicious, “You have a date?”

You cough, choking on your drink and putting it back on the table before furrowing your eyebrows at her, “A date? It’s not a date, he’s a fan of Steve, he was nice, I didn’t see any reason to not invite him.” Not even for a second you had seen it that way.

“Ok…” Wanda nods, but the annoying little smirk doesn’t leave her face as she props her elbows on the table and lean her head on her hand, staring at you.

“Stop, Wanda,” you admonish, “It’s not like that, besides, he’s not even my type.”

“And what’s your type exactly?”

Semi-stable 100-year-old super soldiers would be the answer, but you decide to just shrug instead.

“Alright…” She gets up, seemingly giving up on the teasing, “I’m gonna go grab something to drink, do you want anything?”

“Yeah, would you bring me some of this pineapple thing? It’s on the non-alcoholic session.”

‘Sure, be right back.”

You watch her walk towards the huge bar next to the dance floor before your eyes search for Steve again, just to check if he needs saving or something.

That’s when your heart jumps. The girls have vanished from around Steve and, instead, he is there. Bucky. He’s dressed in a well cut navy blue suit. The lack of a tie and the choice of wearing a black tshirt under it makes it more casual. And sexy. God, how can a man be so handsome? You take in a shaky breath. 

He has a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he laughs at something that has been said. That beautiful and rare smile which makes your hands cold and sweaty. The one that, when you saw it for the first time at that party, all those years ago, you didn’t stand a single chance. And just like then, you fall in love with him. All over again. Yeah… right, like you had stopped at all…

As you watch how longer his hair is after these three months, allowing him to tie the locks in one of those sinful low buns of him, you realize that, yes, lately Bucky hasn’t inhabit all your thoughts like before, but he’s been always there…A dormant sweet pain hidden in the depths of your chest. Ready to burst out at any given moment. You love him and you know that’s how it will always be. No matter what happens. No matter how much time you spend away from each other he will always be the one who takes your breath away.

Your eyes descend the length of his arm and only then her presence reaches your senses. There’s a small, delicate hand wrapped around Bucky’s elbow. A sour taste sweeps into your mouth as you take in Anna by his side. She’s wearing a long grey blue dress which embraces her slim figure flawlessly. You can see she’s chosen it carefully. The color matches Bucky’s outfit. Her dark hair is loose and falls on her back in big, silky waves. Does he wrap his hands around it? Does he snuggle on her to smell the scent of her shampoo? She’s laughing with them and rests her head on Bucky’s shoulder. Does she know he’s ticklish on that little spot between his neck and his jaw? Does she kiss him there and makes him squirm and giggle the way you did? Did he let his beard grow again because she asked him to? Does he like the taste of her? You feel dizzy and glimpse the thin strap of her dress casually falling down her arm. It’s sexy. Does he think she’s sexy?

She is. She’s perfect. Just like he said she was. And she’s not you, which makes her even more perfect for him.

You look up and your heart stops when your eyes cross with hers. Her beautiful smile falters a bit as she brings her other hand to Bucky’s elbow, who keeps talking animatedly with Steve. You make no mistake of that. It’s a protective grip the one she sets on Bucky’s arms. You watch her lively expression fall. You hold your gaze locked with hers and the images flooding into your mind are sickening. Excruciating. You see her moaning under him, their legs untangled under his bed sheets. Her soothing hand on his bare chest guiding him out of his nightmares, the smile that was yours being directed at her.

You can’t breathe. It’s too much. You force yourself out of your own mental torture and hastily get up before you practically bolt to you’re not sure where, leaving the offending sight behind. 

~~~

“And then Dot made this huge cake, but you couldn’t eat it,” Bucky animatedly continues to describe one of the memories he had of Steve’s previous birthdays, “Because it was so fucking terrible, you sneaked the whole three pieces she served you to her cat.” He and Steve burst out in laughs. It isn’t always the good memories come to him, but when it does, oh man, it feels good. 

“You should’ve seen it, Anna,” Bucky turns to the girl on his arm, but her attention is not on him. Her gaze stares ahead, but he finds nothing but strangers when he follows it, “Hey, are you ok?”

The question seems to take her out of her mind as she turns back to him smiling, “Yeah, of course. I think I need to go to the bathroom, though. Will you guys excuse me?” She looks at Steve, who gives her a small nod.

“Sure. Do you want me to walk you there?” Bucky asks.

“No, honey. It’s ok. I know the way.” She answers softly and places a kiss on his cheek, “Be right back.” She adds, before making her path towards the bathroom.

When she seems far enough away, Bucky addresses Steve, “So…ahm, the whole team is coming?”

Steve’s eyes roll, “Yeah, Y/N is coming, pal.”

Bucky’s attempt to defend himself and deny Steve’s assumption is confronted by a raised brow from his buddy. He then contents himself by letting out a huff, mumbling a “jerk” under his breath before shoving his hands inside his pockets, “Have you talked to her again?” He asks, looking at Steve, after a quick survey around the room.

“No, I haven’t. But, hey, do you know who should?” Steve fakes a cheerful insightful voice before glaring at Bucky, “You.”

Bucky faces wrinkle in displeasure at Steve’s jeering, before he gets serious again, “You said you think something is wrong?” He brings up Steve’s call a few days ago.

“And I meant it, Buck. She was all weird, like she wanted to get rid of me as soon as she could saying she had a group thing… besides she looked a bit sick…” Steve narrows his eyes, “I don’t know, man, just talk to her. If she called you, she had something important to say.”

Bucky drops his head, shaking it. He knows Steve has a point. All he needs is to gather the courage to face you again.

~~~

After you splash some water on the nape of your neck as an attempt to ease down your nerves, you take in your appearance on the huge mirror by the equally huge bathroom sink.

You wish you could’ve spent a little more time on getting ready for tonight. Nothing but a plain black dress, the same old red lipstick and hair in your usual style. Nothing fancy. Nothing sexy. Nothing special. You didn’t even put a pair of heels, preferring the comfort of flats.

Shit, is it the hormones making a number on your self-esteem, or is the sight of the perfect couple out there? Yeah, probably both, but more the latter than the first.

“Hey,” Nat bursts into the bathroom, looking like a fucking bombshell, of course, “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?” she asks with her arms thrown to the air, strutting to stand beside you, “Why did you run here? Are you ok? Do you feel sick?” She puts a hand on your forehead.

“I’m ok, I’m ok.” You turn away to the mirror again, talking to her through your reflections, “Came here to refresh a bit. That’s all.” You shrug, pulling down a couple of towel papers to clean the water from your neck.

She hums, tilting her head to side eye you, before placing her hand on your belly, “And how’s my niece?”

“Niece?” You chuckle at her certainty, “How do you even know for sure it’s a girl?”

“I don’t,” she admits before leaning down to level your belly, “But if you decide to put a number on me like Nathaniel did, we’re gonna have a little talk when you come out of your mommy’s belly, sweetie.”

You laugh as you throw away the paper towel, but a flushing sound coming from one of the many cabinets shuts you up. Natasha straightens up and you two look at each other with widen eyes. You freeze when the little door opens and a girl you’ve never seen before gets out of there, tripping on her hills. She stumbles right past you, not even minding to stop and wash her hands before going back to the party.

You breathe again. Apart from you not knowing who the girl is, she seemed too drunk or high to recognize any of you or make sense out of your conversation with Nat.

“Come on,” Nat pats your shoulder and turns to the door, “Wanda is searching for you, she’s got some disgusting pineapple thing she says it’s yours.”

“It is mine and it’s delicious.” You point out, following her. “Your nephew loves it, by the way.” You laugh at the deadly glare she shoots you as she holds the door for you to come out.

You both walk back to the party, completely unaware that while you worried about the girl coming out of the cabinet, you missed someone else rushing away from the spot they had been. Right at the other side of the bathroom door.

~~~

“Have you seen Bucky, yet?” Nat casually drops the ask, walking beside you through the crowded and animated room towards where Wanda and a few familiar faces from the team are.

“Yes, I have,” you mutter.

“Did you say hello or something?” Her curiosity sweeps into her voice.

“Of course not,” you snort, turning your face to her, “Hopefully, I won’t have to.”

“Ugh, what a timing,” She mumbles under her breath, looking ahead as your eyebrow pucker at her words.

“Nat, Y/N!”

You tilt your head to follow the very well-known voice and get the meaning of her words. A pair of super soldiers, walking right at your direction as the blond one is one step ahead of the other, waving at you and too damn close for you to succeed on a sneaky get away.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Captain!” Nat pulls Steve to a hug when he approaches the pair of you, “Where are we now? Two hundred?”

“Getting there,” he chuckles, turning to you when Nat lets him go.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” You surprise yourself when you manage the quiet greeting to even come out of you. You hug Steve. As your heart hammer against your chest, you turn your face to the side so you don’t have to exchange eye contact with Bucky, who keeps himself planted behind his friend.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Steve beams at you and braces his hands on your shoulders when you pull away from the hug, “I’m really glad you came.”

You smile weakly at him, feeling the burning of Bucky’s eyes into you from behind his friend’s shoulder, but you don’t dare to look back at him, wrapping your arms around yourself and taking a step back. Where the hell is his girlfriend, anyway?

“Hey, Barnes.” Nat deadpans.

“Hey.” From the corner of your eyes, you see he doesn’t move his gaze from you when he answers Nat with a small voice.

The most awkward silence you’ve ever experienced takes place. 

“Hey, Nat.” Steve, clears his throat, “Guess who’s here with Clint?”

“Who?” She eyes him suspiciously.

“I give you one word: Budapest.”

“What?” She squeaks as her jaw goes slack, “Where?” She stands on her toes, her eyes roaming through the place.

“Come, I’ll show you.”

Unannounced, Steve drags Nat by the arm. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. Fuck, Steve. Swiftly, you move to try and walk past Bucky, who hasn’t budge from his spot, but a shot of electricity sparks through your skin as a gentle cold metal hand holds your arm, “Wait. Can I talk to you?” His mouth is close to your ear and his hot breath washes over your skin, creating a contrast to the cold- and longed- touch. Shivers rush down your spine unbidden.

Your eyes flicker from where he’s holding you to meet his blue ones, which convey an unreadable emotion. Gulping down the bubbling feelings inside, you pull your arm away and step back to face him, folding your arms protectively in front of your chest once again, “Listen,” you lick your lips and keep your posture high, “Yeah, I knew you would be here. I wasn’t gonna come, but Steve insisted, I won’t stay too long, though-” 

“What…No…” He breathes as a line creases his forehead, “I mean, it’s ok.” He continues in a hunched posture, putting his hands back in his pockets, “Of course. Steve’s your friend as much as he’s mine. And… and this is your home.” His eyes darts to the side briefly, “I didn’t think you wouldn’t be here.”

Stillness lingers between you two as now your eyes simply can’t leave his. What does he want, then? Wasn’t he the one to demand distance? He seems a lot more at ease than he was on your last conversation through the phone. Submissive, even. 

“How are you?” He’s the one to cut through the void, stepping closer.

Fuck, he smells good.

“I’m ok.” You nod. 

“Good, great.” He lets out a breathy smile, before chewing on his lower lip, “You look good.” He says softly, eyes locked with yours.

You take in some air as you feel your mouth dry and your arms slowly unfold themselves. It feels like your Bucky all over again, no that one on the phone and,just like that, you’re melting inside. All the walls you’ve been building up to shield yourself from the pain, from the rejection, threatening to crumble down. Only one thought keeping them up: He’s here with his girlfriend, who isn’t you.

“Hey, ahm, I-I,” He stutters, shifting on his feet, “About the last time we talked. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way. I was a fucking jackass.” He looks down to the floor. You see the regret written on his eyes when he looks up again, “It felt like you had something important to say and I should’ve listened to you. I’m really sorry for that, I’m a stupid jerk.” He says the last line in a tiny voice, speaking more to himself than to you.

“Ok,” you barely whisper and stay still, only breathing through your mouth, unable to speak any other word as his blue eyes never leave yours.

He leans closer to you, “What was that you wanted to talk about?”

Oh… All the air escapes your lungs. Is that how is going to be? You’re gonna tell him now? Here? You want to. God knows you want to, but… You purse your lips, before taking in some much needed air, “I… I called you because… I have some news, I-”

“Bucky?”

Your heart plummets as you gulp down what you were about to say. Bucky’s gaze snaps from you to look over your shoulder and you watch his eyes following Anna as she passes right beside you, to place herself on his side, giving him a smile as she curls her arm around his waist.

“Oh, hey.” Bucky seems lost as he looks down at her.

“Hi,” She greets you, after turning to you with a small smile still on her lips.

Only then Bucky seems to be brought back to reality as he looks back at you with something you could guess as guilt, or shame on his expression. Your gaze shifts from him to Anna, using all your strength to keep yourself together, “Hello,” you nod, forcing a smile back and joining your cold hands in front of you, “How is it going?”

“I’m ok, thanks. How about you?”

She laces her words with kindness and you give her a standard polite answer despite the evident and suffocating awkwardness of the situation. You want nothing but to bolt away of there, feeling small, ugly, pathetic and stupid around them. Stupid to think there was the place and time to tell Bucky about your baby. To, for a second, imagine things would be ok and you could go through this pregnancy in peace, without the weight of you and Bucky’s complicated state of affairs. You want to bolt away, to ignore her perfection and Bucky’s pained stare to you.

That’s when you see your way out. Lost among the crowds, carefully and humbly dodging away from bumping into people as he awkwardly walks through the room. A genuine smile curls up at the sight of your savior.

“Harry,” you shout, making Bucky and Anna turn to see where you’re looking at.

Harry spots you when you wave at him and an evidently relieved smile forms on his face.

“Excuse me,” you say, looking back at the couple but paying no attention to the confusion etched on Bucky’s face, “I gotta go. Have fun.” You add, before finally leaving the scene.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you as you greet the man you called Harry with a brief hug. His stomach churns when he sees you two laugh at something the guy said and he hates how evidently the man blushes at your presence. He has to physically stop himself to chase after you and punch the little punk in the guts when you pull him by the hand and drag him through the sea of bodies in direction to where a few members of the team are.

Who the hell is this guy? And more importantly, what does he have to do with you? His heart leaps violently against the bones of his chest when a thought floods into his mind. The news you said you had… the reason you called him…could it have anything to do with this new guy in your life?

“Bucky, are you listening to me?” Anna’s voice reaches his senses.

“Oh, sorry.” He blinks, shifting his focus to her, “What was that?”

“I asked if you know who that is?” She asks curiously, nodding to your direction. 

“No, I don’t.” Bucky answers simply, smiling briefly to release the tense set of his jaw, and changes the subject, “Where’ve you been?”

“Oh, the bathroom down here was crowded, so I went to the one upstairs.”

Bucky nods, his gaze turning back to where you are on its own volition before Anna cups his cheeks, shifting his face back to her and brings her lips to his. Although being taken by surprise, Bucky lets himself relish on the intense kiss. It’s nothing like the kisses he and Anna are used to sharing. It’s demanding and full of want. Almost violent and he’s grateful for having the thoughts of you and your new friend away from his mind at least for a bit.

“I love you.” She whispers, pressing her forehead on his and like every time she’s said it before, he doesn’t say it back. He can’t. Instead, he just smiles and pecks her lips.

“Let’s go dance.” She tips her head back to look at him and takes his hands into hers.

“What?” His eyes well up, “You know I don’t-”

He wants to knock himself up when he sees her eyes casting down and the faint of a pout on her lips. He takes another brief glance at where you are laughing with Sam, Steve and your friend.

“Alright,” he gives in, “Let’s go.” He’s pleased to see her face lighting up again as she pulls him to the dance floor.

He doesn’t like to dance anymore. Not like he once did. But that’s not what really troubles him through automatic moves and smiles… it’s the thought of you pulling the guy with your hands. It’s thinking that what you wanted to tell him was that you found someone new. That you’ve moved on and would be with someone else, just like he had told you he had decided to be with Anna. Fuck… is that how he made you feel when he told you that?

Two or three songs later, the music stops and Tony grabs the mic, announcing it was time for singing happy birthday, inviting everyone to go outside and watch the fireworks by the pool. 

Like everyone else, Bucky does as he says. The happy birthday song happens, some gig involving a showgirl in Captain America inspired costume and a huge star spangled cake takes place- to Steve’s dismay. Then the fireworks start.

With Anna standing right in front of him, Bucky doesn’t really pay attention to any of that. All he sees is you. There you are. A few feet away from him, adorably staring up in awe with the fireworks. The sight makes an inadvertent smile curl up on his face for a second. He loves the way your lips are an inch parted as you take in the show happening in the sky.

How can someone be so stunning?

You’re always so effortlessly beautiful. You take his breath away. You make him acquainted with his own heart. Always did and still do. He watches as you turn your head to the side to say something to the person beside you.

Oh, yeah. That guy is there, too. Right beside you.

His mind races at the same speed of the fireworks bursting right above him. Are you really with that man? Or is it just jealousy making him assume things? The little shit has nothing to do with you…What would you see in him? The punk is not even touching you…

But maybe it’s still a secret. Maybe you wanna tell him in person before opening it up to everyone. Just the way he did about Anna…Maybe that’s why Steve felt like you were hiding something from him the other day…

Does he touch you when nobody’s looking, then? Does he know about that tiny spot between your waist and your hips? The one which made you squirm when he kissed it? Do you let him sleep in your bed? Do you whisper you love him right before he falls asleep, too? Does he keep you up at night with nightmares? Does he cling on you too much? Will you feel like running away from him at some point?

Bucky hopes not. He takes in a long, shuddering breath.You deserve someone who doesn’t make you wanna leave. Like he once did.

Anna leans her back on his chest and pulls his arm to wrap it around her body. He looks down at her and places a kiss on the top of her head, wishing her touch keeps him grounded there.

~~~

Right after the fireworks ends, most of the party goes back inside, while you, Harry, Steve, Sam, Vision and Wanda form a circle by the pool to chat. Harry has marveled at everyone, but meeting Steve made him lost his shit. The funny thing is the Soldier blushed just as much as the fan at the interaction. Even after all these years, the Captain still isn’t used to the attention. But he did answer all the questions Harry made after you played the part of the mediator of the communication. You’re glad Harry has been discreet as he promised, answering vaguely the times people asked where and when you two had met. 

“Steve.”

You look towards the sound to see Bucky approaching your little circle, arm in arm with Anna. You turn away while the rest focused on the couple.

“Hey, pal.”

“We’re going.” Bucky talks in a harsh voice directly with Steve, but the hard expression on his face is aimed to someone else. Harry on your side. 

“Already?” Steve asks as the others protest.

Looking at Harry you see him still, gaping at Bucky. The now familiar awestruck expression plastered on his face. You’ll have to disappoint him this time. There’s no way you’re going to introduce him to Bucky. You had your share of interaction with him for tonight. You glance up at the soldier and his chest is puffed, chin slightly tucked, making his clenched jaw evident. You hold back an eye roll. Is he trying to seem intimidating? What is that for?

While Bucky explains they have to leave because Anna has a lecture early in the morning and they say their general goodbyes your gaze meets hers. She’s been staring at you and doesn’t bother on turning away when you spot her. There’s something about the way she’s looking at you… you study her closer. It’s not intimidation like Bucky. It’s not anger, or jealousy…It’s fear, evident fear in her eyes. It unsettles you and you finally turn your eyes from her, relaxing only when the couple leaves the place.

~~~

“This was, hands down, the most surreal night of my life.” Harry brings both his hands to his forehead, shaking his head in disbelief, “I’ve never felt safer and also ready to drop dead at any moment, it was insane.”

You let out an amused laugh. It was fun to see the fascination in Harry at each avenger he got to meet. You thought Steve would be the highlight of his night, but it was certainly hilarious to watch him lose his voice when Natasha showed up. Now, the party is almost over and, apart from you and Harry sitting on one of the huge couches right by the pool, only a few people still lingered there. 

“I’m glad you had fun. Everyone really liked you.” You point out, slipping off of your flats and folding your legs to your side on the cushion, shifting your torso to face his profile.

“Pfff,” he shakes his head, but you can see the contentment on his face, “I can’t believe Tony Stark said he will drop by at Luna and Jon’s daycare. They’ll freak out.”

“Tony’s the most amazing person in the world.” You smile, leaning your elbow on the armrest to rest your chin on your hand, “And he loves kids.”

“Me too.” He nods, mimicking your position, “Especially mine.” He adds. The pride which he says the words with is adorable.

“Who are with them tonight?”

“My mom. Who still must be up waiting to hear about my Avengers escapade. I’m glad Thor wasn’t here, or else she would kill me for not bringing her.” He cringes.

The curiosity growing in you ever since you two met takes the best of you, “Ahm, can I ask you something?” He nods and you continue, softly, “What about the mother of your kids? Is she around?”

“She… she died when they were born.” He smiles tightly, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Oh my God,” You whisper, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s ok. The worst has passed. Not a good story to tell a pregnant woman, though.”

“How did you do it? All alone with two kids…” you can’t help but wonder out loud.

His head drops, “It was tough. I mean, really, really tough. When I caught myself alone with those two tiny loud creatures, totally depending on me… I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it. But then my mom was there for me, and I went to therapy, the group happened, my friends….” He sighs, deeply, looking up at you, “And I love those little chipmunks so, so, so much. This love makes me stronger than I have ever been.”

You smile, recognizing the feeling.

“I would probably kick Cap’s ass for them. But don’t tell him I said that.” You both laugh after he goes serious again. “Don’t worry, it’s gonna be ok. The thing is we’re never really as alone as we think we are.”

“I guess you’re right.” You say, thinking about all the support you already have when just a few people know about your pregnancy.

“Can I ask you something, now?” His voice is quiet and gentle. 

“Go ahead.”

“It’s him, isn’t it? Bucky Barnes? The father of your baby?”

The easy smile you had on your face drops at once and you turn away before you give him a single nod, “How did you know?”

“Well… I felt like he could kill me only by staring at me when he saw me by your side, which was pretty scary, to be honest.” His eyes go round when he says this, “Also, you got all quiet when he came by with that girl and he was the only one you didn’t introduce me to…” He shrugs.

You purse your lips, “It’s complicated.”

“He doesn’t know?”

You shake your head, “I’ve tried to tell him before. Tonight again, but…It didn’t happen.” You press your lips between your teeth, “I don’t know how I will do it, to be honest.” You let out a humourless chuckle. 

He nods thoughtfully and stays quiet for a little while before speaking, “I know we’ve met just a few days ago, - and I can’t believe I’m saying this to an Avenger- but just know you can count on me…I bet that despite it all, everything will be alright.” He reaches for your hand on your lap and gives it a squeeze.

A ghost of a smile goes back to your lips, “I hope so, Harry.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation.

She loves it… The silky touch of his shirt caressing her skin…His smell sweetly mingling with hers. She feels delightfully safe, like it’s actually his arms holding her close, his skin on hers… She loves it and lets her lips curl in a smile as she lazily combs her hair. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Anna hears the shower running in the bathroom.

He invited her to stay once again.

The small curl of her lips drops when she reminds herself that he only does that when he feels insecure…about you. She knows you still have that effect on him. She knows that, despite trying to hide it, Bucky is still in love with you.

And she accepts it. To be fair, she has no choice. The love she feels for him is bigger than anything. Bigger than pride, than the judgment of her colleagues for dating an ex-patient, bigger than her career, bigger than herself…She knows she’s in a messy situation, but it doesn’t matter. She finally gets the chance to live the love she’s been harboring all this time and nothing can beat it.

That ice cold feeling resurges in the pit of her stomach… Fear…

She sighs and gets up, walking around the bed to leave the brush on the nightstand before propping herself on the mattress once again, leaning her back on the headboard and covering her legs with the sheets. 

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop. After seeing the way you looked at her and Bucky together she felt like she needed to talk to you. Have a definite and honest conversation to at least stand her ground. That’s why she went after you. But when she got to the bathroom’s door she heard Nat talking about a baby in your belly and she froze.

You’re pregnant.

She takes in a cold, shuddering breath. Does Bucky know? No… She’s sure he would’ve told her something like that by now. He tells her everything… like he told her how he still felt about you and about the encounter you two had on the roof. When was it? Two, three months ago? Fuck… She lets her head fall back to the headboard.

What is she going to do now? What does a baby mean to her relationship with Bucky? If he doesn’t know, she should tell him, right? Is that the right thing to do? And if it is, right for whom? If just seeing you makes him falter, she can’t even imagine what knowing about your pregnancy right now would do to him.

She could lose him… that’s what she’s terrified of. That’s the thought she can’t stand. Not now, when she got a taste of how loving him - really loving him- feels. That’s why her throat and chest are tight enough to make her breaths come out short. That’s why she brings a finger to her mouth and starts chewing on her nail. A habit she’s used to help patients with…

If you didn’t tell him, should she? There’s a chance the baby isn’t his, isn’t there? That guy at the party…Harry… maybe… What if it’s not even Bucky’s and she only creates a problem? And what if it’s his…

The consuming doubts cloud her senses and only when the mattress moves does she notice Bucky is finally out of the shower. While he pulls up the sheets and places himself on the bed, he smiles at her, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Her heart shatters and she knows the reason for his long shower… Seeing you tonight… It wasn’t easy for him.

“Ready to sleep?” He asks, resting his back on the headboard like her.

“Sure. Thanks for inviting me to stay.”

He tightens his lips before leaning over and placing a small kiss on her forehead. Her eyes flutter shut at the touch.

She cups his cheeks when he moves away, “Are you feeling better now?” Her thumbs draw patterns over his soft beard as he frowns at her, “I know tonight wasn’t easy for you,” she clarifies softly.

His eyebrows rise while his lips part and close a couple of times before he sighs, and his gaze cast down, “I’m sorry,” He whispers. 

Her heart sinks, no bearing the sight of his sad, ashamed eyes in front of her. God, the things she could do to never see him like that again… “Don’t be.” She shakes her head when he looks up at her again, “You know I got into this knowing exactly how you feel, Bucky. You don’t have to be sorry for your feelings… not with me.”

The corners of his mouth are curled down when, with his finger, he places a lock of her hair behind her ear, “I wish it was different.” He mutters, turning his face to place a kiss on her palm, before taking her hands into his, holding them between the both of them.

“I know…” She nods. “But you told me you didn’t want to love her anymore. Not after you realized that you two weren’t good for each other.” While she keeps his eyes on him, his gaze is fastened on their joined hands, “Do you still feel that way?”

She watches his bare chest rising as he breaths in a long intake of air. The silence that comes after twists her stomach.

“I- I, I don’t know.” He stutters.

A sharp pain cuts through Anna’s chest and she holds her breath. 

Bucky finally lets his gaze meet hers, “I mean, I know that Y/N and I… we don’t do any good to each other.” He licks his lips and gulps before continuing, “But I’m not sure if I- if I’ll ever get this love out of me…” He lets his head drop and shakes it in frustration before looking up at her and letting go of her hands to cup her cheeks, “And I’m scared I’m going to hurt you on the way. That’s the last thing I wanna see happening.”

Anna swiftly leans forward and wraps him in a tight hug, “I love you so, so much, Bucky.” He’s slipping through her fingers and she can terror making her heart race. She can’t let that happen, she would die if it did, “Remember when I said there was no deal breaker for me? I meant it. I can make you happy, I know I can…I-I know you like me, too.” She pants.

“I do. I do.” He soothes her, resting his chin on her shoulder, softly brushing his hand over her back, “You mean so much to me, you have no idea. That’s why the possibility of hurting you is terrifying to me.”

“Let’s go on a trip.” She blurts out as she moves away, keeping her arms around his neck, though.

“What?” His forehead creases.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles, “I still have remaining stocks of leave not taken. You’re still away from work… We can get out of here. Go anywhere we want. Focus on us and leave everything else behind.”

Bucky ponders for a minute, letting his eyebrows furrow, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yes, I am, it will be good for us to just get away.” Anna eagerly answers. That’s exactly what they need. More time. More space. Their relationship needs to be stronger, he needs to be more certain of his feelings for her, before…before…

“Ok.” He nods, smiling at her, “I think you’re right.”

She lets out a breathy, relieved laugh and grabs him a tight hold again. They’re together and will remain together. That’s all that matters.

Everything and everyone else can wait.

~~~

Glancing at your phone you realize if you’re don’t hurry up you’ll be late to the group session. You rush to your closet and grab the first t-shirt you see, but before you put it on, your image reflected on the full body mirror catches your eye.

Your breasts. They’re noticeably bigger and you hiss in pain when you put a tentative hand on them. You turn to the side as you roam down your body and stop at your belly. You smile. It’s not exactly remarkably bigger, but you can see the small changes that getting into the 14th week brings to your abdomen. It’s rounder and a little bit higher, and you can feel your old jeans pressing against your skin. Your little bean is growing…It may be time to call Wanda and Nat to pay a visit to those maternity boutiques.

Sighing, you put on your t-shirt. The time passing and the inevitable changes in your body mean that you won’t be able to keep the secret for long. Getting into the bathroom to brush your teeth and pee for the millionth time that day you remember almost telling Bucky at Steve’s party a week ago. What would’ve been his reaction? Well, you guess you’ll find out soon enough. You ponder maybe it’s for the best if it meant Steve would get off your tail. The man suspects something and hasn’t been subtle about it at all. Asking questions, showing up in your room unannounced, insisting on knowing more about Harry… 

You can’t help but smile at the thought of Harry. While you and Bucky went back to radio silence, you’ve been talking to Harry daily. Having someone with shared experiences outside the group to talk about what you’re going through has been everything you need. You were nothing but delighted when he said you two should grab a hot-dog from the trailer by the group after today’s session. You’ve been enamored with that trailer since day one but haven’t had the opportunity to try it yet.

With your mouth watering, you hang your bag on your shoulder and grab your car keys before rushing to the door. You’re pacing towards the elevator when pass by the common area. A call of your name makes you stop on your tracks. Through the large, opened glass door you see her.

Anna.

Your lips part slightly at the sight as every muscle in your body tightens up. She’s standing in the middle of the room where you first met her, when you watched Bucky swang her in a hug. You suppress the invasive memory with a sharp breath. She’s dressed much like you, in jeans and a loose t-shirt, sneakers on her feet, her full long hair styled in a messy high bun. She looks casual, simple, very different from the last time you’ve seen her. For a moment, you just stay where you are, fixing a narrowed gaze on her. You’re sure you heard her calling your name but you just can’t pinpoint why she would be there.

“Y/n?” She says again, taking a step forward and folding an arm in front of her to grab on her bicep. “Hi.”

“Hey, ahm… are you waiting for someone?” You tilt your head questioningly, walking through the opened door.

“Actually,” She clears her throat, “I wanted to talk to you…if that’s ok.” She points at the keys in your hand. “You seem to be on your way out?”

Oh… That’s the last thing you expected to hear. You think about turning her down, telling her you’re in a hurry, which would not be a lie, but something inside you longs to know what she could possibly have to say to you.

“That’s ok,” you say, “I still got some time.” 

She seems pleased at your answer and points to the couches questioningly. You nod and take a seat on the closest chair to you, holding the car keys tightly over your lap. She positions herself on the couch in front of you.

You feel the air tense, but wait for her to speak first.

“I meant to talk to you at Steve’s party, but the opportunity never came. I think this is long overdue, to be honest.” She speaks calmly and steadily before looking at you, probably waiting for you to say something. When you don’t, she continues, “You know… when I met Bucky, I was his therapist.”

“I know that.” You quickly say, trying to not sound harsh. You’re not sure how to feel about this conversation, or even how to feel about Anna beyond the jealousy that stubbornly insists on taking over your chest every time you see her. But, to be fair, this is entirely on you, not on her. You never really had the chance to get to know her and you’re really not convinced if this is something you’re strong enough to handle.

She gives you a small smile, “You probably also know there’s something about him… something that makes it hard not to fall in love with and I was no exception. Therapist or not.”

You feel her eyes still lingering on you when you turn yours away.

“I think it was even harder for me to fight that feeling, because I got to really, really see him, all the vulnerability under that apparently strong and unbreakable man.” She keeps her calm tone, “You have no idea how he got…when you left.”

At the throbbing pain in your heart, you look back at her. The twitching bone on her jaw betrays the neutrality of the rest of her face. You don’t get why she would come there to tell you this. Maybe the fact you and Bucky had seen each other at the party? Is she insecure about it? You can see the vulnerability in her words, her posture… You recognize it and you can’t help the ounce of empathy to surface in you among all the painful feelings flooding your entire self. You share a love for the same man, after all.

“In all my work years, I’ve met all kinds of broken people, but I’ve never seen such sheer, raw agony in someone… over a lost love.” She pauses, biting her lips.

You have no words to say. Nothing that could express the good old guilt you’ve been feeling every day since the day you left. You really don’t wanna cry in front of her, leaving you with no choice but to hold back the swelling lump in your throat.

“You only got to see the best part of the love you’ve lived together. You didn’t stay to see him shatter.” She breathes and shakes her head, looking down minutely, “I know you love him, I know you want what’s best for him… if you had seen it, maybe you wouldn’t have come back.” Her tone grows a bit harsher than before.

Your eyes widen briefly as she stares at you. A slap on your face wouldn’t hurt as much. Clenching your teeth, you hold back what you’re certain that would be a floor of tears.That’s enough. “Listen, I already know all of this…” you force yourself to speak, still calmly, betraying the turmoil inside your, “And Bucky already asked me to stay away, which I’ve been doing. Us meeting at the party was an accident. I don’t see why you would come here to tell me all of this, but I really need to go.”

You get up, moving to walk away, turning your back to her.

“I know you’re pregnant.”

As an act of pure instinct your hand covers your belly as you freeze in place.

“How?” You tilt your head, not being able to really see her from your position.

“I heard you and Nat talking in the bathroom.”

You turn fully around. As you exchange gazes, you spot the same look you saw at the party, right before she left with Bucky. Fear… You sit back on the chair, placing your arms firmly on the armrests. “Did you tell him?” You ask, tentatively, afraid of the answer.

She swiftly shakes her head and you’re not sure how you feel about the information. “Why did you come here?” You ask, in a low, genuinely curious tone rather than accusing.

“He’s still… fragile when it comes to his feelings for you.” She says, taking her time before choosing the word fragile.

“The fact I’m pregnant doesn’t mean anything… It won’t change our relationship. Not romantically, at least.” You say, letting determination sweep into your words.

“Like I said, he still falters when it comes to you…” Her voice shakes, “If he finds out about the baby now, he won’t be able to free himself from the feelings he has for you like he wants. I know I can make him happy and I’ll always be by his side unless he kicks me.” Insecurity seeps from her words, her pores. “But he and I need time… to solidify what we’re building together. That’s what he wants, you know that.”

“But….” Your eyebrows draw closer, trying to steady your own voice, “He has to know at some point.”

“You didn’t tell him yet, either… why?” She tilts her head.

“That’s really my business.” You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, shifting on the chair.

“Deep down, you know the two of you are bad for each other. Don’t you?”

You let her words roam into your mind and tears finally prick your eyes as the tight control you’ve been keeping so far weakens. You don’t really allow yourself to answer the question. Not to her. Not to you.

“I came here to beg you, Y/N,” the shaky desperation on her voice catches your attention, “Let him set himself free from the strings that keep him tied up to you. Let me take care of him and mend his pieces back together, I know I can do that.”

The way she speaks makes you not sure if she’s saying this more to convince you or her. But it hurts. Deeply. You swallow thickly as you watch her taking in a deep breath.

“We’re going on a trip.” She stands up, clutching on the stripe of her beg, “Overseas. A month or so. We’re meeting at the airport. I told him I had some work related thing to do before boarding.”

She walks closer to you as you look up to meet her eyes clouded with sadness and desperation, “What I’m here to ask you is to give him this time. Allow him to give himself fully to me and be happy, Y/N. Really happy. He, above anyone else, deserves that.”

Instead of giving her an answer, you look to the side, feeling the tight tension in your jaw oozing to your shoulders.

She sighs and walks past you, “I know you’re not a bad person,” Her voice comes from behind you as she stops at the door, “And I know you love him…” She pauses for a second, before whispering, “But he was fine before your return…”

A painful breath fills your lungs before you turn to see her back walking away. You know what she really means. If you truly loved him, you wouldn’t have come back. If you truly love him, you would vanish from his life again.

Is that what you should do? But what about… what about your baby? The abundance of tears cloud your vision as you try hard to fill up your lungs.

You need to get out of there. You need to breathe.

You swiftly get up and when you’re aware of yourself again, you’re already inside of your car, driving out of the garage and allowing the sobs to come out of your throat. Hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

So much damage. You’ve caused him so much damage The enormous guilt and regret you’ve been feeling all this time hits you like a freight car once again. It all comes back to your mind as your hands shake on the wheel, driving yourself to you have no idea where. It really doesn’t matter. It comes back to you: the panic you felt when you saw the ring, the words you told him when he flew to London to get you back, the calls for your name during nightmares, the night on the rooftop, he telling he didn’t want your love anymore…

Your baby… your innocent baby who doesn’t deserve to have a mother like you, who never really learned how to deal with love in a way that wouldn’t destroy the person you love…

It’s all a blur around when your body jerks violently. The high pitched sound of wheels braking mixed with the thudding sound of metal against metal reaches your senses.

A sharp pain in your forehead and everything is darkness.

~~~

“Did you manage to handle everything you needed?” Bucky asks, moving on his seat and wrapping his arm around Anna’s shoulder.

“Hopefully I did,” She simply nods before nestling her head on his shoulder, “I can’t believe the flight is late. I’m so excited for this trip.”

“Yeah…” Bucky looks up to the screens showing the warning of one hour delay for their flight.

A goddamn tour through the Caribbean. The Winter Soldier goes to the beach. Sounds like a terrible name for a terrible tv show. Only Anna to convince him to go and spend a month in a place like that. What is he supposed to do all this time? Sunbathe? Eat shrimps all day?

But she’s right. This time away would be good for them. All it took was one night seeing you to all his resolve start to crumble. You’re so addicting… All he wanted was to touch you, really touch you, hold you in his arms and make sure you’re ok. And he craved to punch that fucking punk beside you.

He’s fully aware he has no right to be jealous, after all he was the one to build a wall between you two and start a relationship with someone else… but he just can’t help it. THe thought of you with someone else cuts him to the bones…

Yeah. He can use this time away. He needs Anna. He said the truth. He’s terrified of hurting her and that possibility seems more and more real… she means so much to him, he really doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He wants to be the boyfriend she deserves and he’ll be.

A buzz on his pocket gets him out of his thoughts. As Anna leans back from his shoulder as he grabs his phone and frowns at the unknown number on the screen.

“Who is it?” She asks.

He just shrugs and brings the cellphone to his ear.

“Yeah?”

“Hello, I need to speak to… ahm…”The person on the other end takes a pause, “Bucky?”

“That’s me, who is this?”

“I’m calling from the New York-Presbyterian Hospital. You’re Miss Y/N YLN emergency contact-”

All his air gets punched out of his stomach. He doesn’t get to hear the rest as he hastily get up, about to force his trembling legs to flee. He almost yanks away his arm from the touch around his elbow, but stops when he turns and sees Anna with a desperate questioning look.

“What’s happening?”

He swallows thickly, “It’s Y/N… she’s in an hospital. I-I don’t know what…” He licks his lips, not really wanting to waist any other second, “I’m sorry, Anna, but I gotta go.” He knows this probably means missing the flight, but it’s not up to discussion.

“I’m coming with you.” She swiftly grabs her handbag.

He nods and makes a beeline to the way out. Anna shortly after him. The loud thundering of his heart drawing out every sound, every thought from his mind, except the desperate need to get to you.

~~~

Bucky knows desperation. It’s like he’s meeting an old friend. Or better, an old enemy. He hates giving in to desperation. All his senses become blurred, he can’t think right. He just acts. He just follows the despair like a compliant servant. That’s why the driveway towards the hospital happened like a shadow. He doesn’t quite remember how he got there where he is now. At the waiting room, after running over a number of floors.

People, probably nurses, told him it was a car accident on a crossroads. You didn’t stop at the traffic light. Apparently it wasn’t that serious, but they told him he had to wait for the doctor, who would be right there, to know details.

And that’s what he’s been doing. Sitting on a tiny chair, lips pressed between his teeth, elbows over bouncing knees. He knows it hasn’t been too long since he got there but it feels like forever… fuck he needs to know you’re ok.

“Buck.”

He looks up to see the concerned faces of Steve, Nat, Wanda and Sam rushing into the room. Anna must’ve called them on the way. Anna… although he knows she’s been by his side the whole time he made the choice to not look or talk to her ever since he lied he was your fiancée so they would give him information. 

“How is she?” Nat exasperates as he gets up.

“James Barnes?”

They all turn to see the doctor getting into the room. He’s young, probably an intern. Bucky doesn’t like it, but chooses to keep it to himself. For now.

“That’s me.” He steps forward.

“You’re miss Y/N Y/L/N fiancée, right?”

He ignores the turning faces at him to respond, “Yes, how’s she?”

“She’s fine. She’s resting. Your girl is very tough and lucky.” He smiles at Bucky, who finally breathes, indulging him with the warmth on his chest after hearing you being referred as his girl, “Just a couple of scratches and a broken wrist. She was taken to the ER because she was unconscious when she got here, due a hit on the head.” When Bucky’s eyes furrow, the doctor quickly adds, “Oh, but don’t worry, we ran some tests and it seems like it was just a minor injury. She’ll be ok.”

It’s like the whole world has been lifted from Bucky’s shoulders and his heart goes back to beating. You’re ok. You’re safe. Unable to contain a big smile to curl up his lips, Bucky looks at his friends and sees the relief seeping into their expressions as well. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” the young doctor excitedly says before Bucky turns his attention back to him.

Putting a hand over Bucky’s shoulder, the doctor grins widely at him, whose heart stops all over again when the next works reach his ears, “Everything is alright with the baby. Tough little bean, just like its mama.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long wait! Here it is! Thank you for your patience!

“You’re one strong little bean, aren’t you?” You smile to your belly, caressing it lazily with your good hand while having the other wrapped in an orthosis, “You must’ve taken it from your daddy.”

A shuddering breath takes the place of your smile and your head falls back to the inclined hospital bed as reality sinks in. You’ve been regaining your senses in the last few minutes, and you’re starting to fully understand what has happened. They said you were in a car accident and hit your head, making you unconscious. Luckily the passenger from the other car was ok and so were you and your baby, despite some scratches and an injured wrist. Through your stupor you’ve managed to say you were pregnant and the hit might’ve gotten you confused, since you now remember they said something about a fiancée at some point. 

“I’m sorry little one,” you whisper as a single teardrop slips from your eye. What a great mother you already are. You’ve promised to protect your baby, you’ve felt strong enough for it, inclusive to make yourself safe enough to take care of them and the first time you feel a little unbalanced you manage to let all of that behind and put your baby at risk. The thought of what could’ve happened makes your chest tight.

You still have a lot to work on yourself. It’s more than clear now.

A series of knocks on the door grabs your attention. “Yes?” you say, after wiping your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Hey,” Wanda’s head pops in from behind the door, “Can we come in?”

You can’t help but let out a small chuckle when three other heads find space in the doorframe to peek at you. Nat, Sam and Steve.

“Of course.” You wave them in.

Wanda and Nat take the lead in propping the door wide open and rushing to your sides, “How are you feeling?” Nat looks down at you, carefully sitting on a small space beside you on the bed, the crinkle between her eyebrows an expression of her concern.

“I’m ok, thanks.” You nod at her and then at a just as apprehensive Wanda, who places her hand over your right one, which hasn’t been affected by the accident.

“You scared the hell out of us, darling.” Wanda squeezes your hand gently.

“I scared myself, to be honest,” You admit, giving her a knowing look, before turning your face ahead to see your two other visitors standing by the end of the bed.

Your eyes narrow at the sight. Steve is using one hand to support his elbow as the other he uses to cover his mouth. His brows are furrowed as he looks at you, seemingly on the verge of tears. At his side, Sam has his arms crossed in front of his chest and he’s barely holding back a smile on his face.

“Ahm… hello, guys?” You tilt your head at them as your eyes narrow further.

“I fucking knew it,” Steve blurts out, as he swings his arm to the side with the palm turned up, uncovering his mouth and revealing a watery smile. 

You almost jump in the bed when Sam lets out a full laugh, clapping his hands. Raising your both eyebrows, you turn to Nat for help.

“Oh yeah,” she says nonchalantly, “The doctor totally spilled the beans and the word about our little peanut is out.” Nat smiles, tapping fondly your belly.

“What?” You yelp, snapping your face back at Steve and Sam and catching the smiles still unyielding on their faces.

“To be honest, for me it was just a confirmation,” Steve fills his lungs with pride, “No one seems that sick around my cologne and you had never not drunk whiskey in a party before.”

You gulp down, entirely unprepared to deal with more people knowing about your pregnancy. Despite the feeling of not having to keep a secret all the time being liberating and the happiness plastered on Steve and Sam’s reactions being nothing other than heartwarming, there’s still so much to think about, to consider…

In a second, both of them take Wanda’s and Nat’s places, positioning themselves on each side of you, “Are you and the peanut ok? How far are we?” Sam asks and the endearment on his words is enough for you to let any worries aside.

You allow a huge grin on your face, “We’re just fine and on our 14th week.” You turn to a clearly emotional Steve as your lips curl down, before continuing, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you guys. I was just… waiting, I guess.” You avoid getting into more details at that moment.

“Don’t worry,” Steve shakes his head, “We’re just glad the two of you are ok.”

He places his hand on your shoulder and you lean your cheek over it, accepting the comfort of his words and gentle touch.

“Hey,” Sam catches your attention, “How did it happen?” He nods towards your few injuries.

“It seems like I overran a red light.” You shrug.

“They told us that, but…Y/n, you’re the best driver I know, something must’ve happened to make you take a slip like that.” He crosses his arms again, tilting his head.

You don’t know how to answer. You were certainly emotionally distressed and not thinking clearly. You know that under normal circumstances you would never let that happen. But telling them that would mean you would have to tell all about the conversation you had a few minutes before the accident, and God knows how much you don’t want any more drama…

“Come on… It’s not the time right now. We can talk about this later.” Wanda says, cutting through the silence your lack of response caused.

While everyone’s attention is on you, your eyes meet Wanda’s and you see it in the way she’s looking intently at you, keeping her jaw tight if to hold back what’s on her mind. She knows… if she’s seen it by accident or not, you wouldn’t know, but you aim a thankful look at her. 

“How did you guys find out I was here?” You asked, breaking the silence, hopefully turning the subject towards a different direction. 

It doesn’t slip from your attention when Steve and Sam shift on their feet, while Wanda and Nat exchange glances.

“Do you know who your emergency contact is?” Steve bites his lips and places his hand into his pockets.

Your eyes narrow, trying to remember when was the last time you even thought about that…

Oh shit.

You freeze, staring at the girls with wide eyes.

“The hospital called Bucky.” Nat purses her lips. “And Anna called Steve while they drove here from the airport. Apparently they were going on a trip.”

“He’s here?” You whisper, already feeling your body shrinking into yourself.

“He was.” Steve answered, “He said he was your fiancé to get info on you.” He adds with a smirk.

Oh…you don’t ignore the jump of your heart at the information, but you have to focus on breathing…does that mean he-

“That’s how the doctor spilled the beans.” Wanda says, nodding as she shares a knowing look with you. “He told Bucky you and your baby were fine.”

The ice cold rush hits your spine like a bomb before waving down your whole body. “Oh, God,” you let out a whisper as your hand grips on the sheets beside you.

He knows. He knows. He knows…

The thought repeats inside your mind at the same rhythm of your thundering heart, as you avoid looking at anyone, trying to not give away how helpless Bucky knowing makes you feel. That’s not how you wanted for him to find out about your baby. Not in the slightest. 

You listen to Sam saying Bucky got static staring at the doctor like he was from mars or something like it and then he just left… Anna on his toes. Steve tried to call him, but he didn’t answer.

"Y/N…” Steve speaks more sternly and you look up at him, seeing his equally stern eyes, which could, even like this, express a deep sympathy the way only Steve could, “He’s the father, isn’t he?”

You breathe in harshly and blink a few times, letting the inevitable question sink in. Before you have time to answer in anyway, a soft knock comes from the door, which catches everyone’s attention, but Steve’s, whose gaze remains stuck on you. Trying to ignore it, you watch as Nat walks to the door and opens it. As the door is opened towards you, all you see is her devilish little smirk at the one behind it.

“H-hi, can I come in?”

You smile at the familiar voice. 

Natasha nods and step aside to give room to Harry, who, as soon as he steps in with his Harry Potter t-shirt and spots you,he makes a beeline towards you. But when he glimpses Steve and Sam at your sides he halts at the end of the bed, almost tripping on his feet right beside Wanda. She holds back a chuckle and so do you.

“Hey, how are you?

Your grin goes bigger, “I’m fine, Harry. Thanks for coming all the way here. How did you find out?” Your forehead creases.

“Oh, ahm, Blac-, uh, your friend Natasha,” He points his thumb back at her, “She called me through your phone and told me what happened.” He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses on his nose, before timidly waving, “Hey, everyone,” He looks at Steve, “Cap-Captain.” He nods.

Steve nods back with a small smile, while everyone waves their hellos. 

“Oh yeah,” Natasha moves her shoulder away from the door, before sashaying her hips towards you, “I got your phone and there were zillions of calls from this one,” She winked at Harry, whose ears are about to explode in red, as she takes your phone from her pocket and hands it to you, “So I called him back.”

You are not about to ask how she got your phone, but you are thankful she called Harry. You realize just now how, without you even noticing, he’s become a very important support system to you.

“Ok, we should go now,” Wanda claps her hands, sauntering past Sam to give you a kiss on the top of your head, “We’re already working on your transfer to the Tower’s med bay,” She smiles down at you, “But they said it’s another day of observation, tops, and you’re good.”

“Oh, thank God,” you breathe, “Thanks, Wands.”

“We’re coming to get you in a few,” Sam adds, winking at you.

After winking back at him, you turn to Steve, “We’ll talk another time, I promise.” You press your lips together.

He nods with a small smile, before leaning over to give a kiss on the cheek, “Don’t worry. I’m just so happy for you,” he whispers before moving away.

Natasha is already by the door when she blows you a kiss. They all say their goodbyes to Harry and you wonder if he’ll ever lose the dumbstruck expression at their presence.

With your friends out of the room you turn your gaze to Harry, who moves closer to you, standing by your side. 

“Ugh, I keep forgetting you’re an Avenger,” He puffs, crossing his arms and nodding towards the door. 

You laugh softly, before casting your eyes down and biting your cheek.

“Are you really ok?” He takes a step closer, his head angling to the side as he looks down at you.

You suck in a breath, “It depends,” you look up at him, feeling your eyes as tired as the rest of you, “Physically, yeah.” You shrug.

“What happened?” He asks, pulling a chair to sit next to your bed. The genuine concern on his tone warming your restless heart at least at bit.

“He knows I’m pregnant…Bucky.” The words burst out of you, “The doctor told him.” You pant.

“Oh… wait? Is he here?”

“Was… picture that,” you snort, “he’s still my emergency contact.”

“Shit,” he grimaces, “But hey, at least it’s out there… You’ve been saying you couldn’t handle the secrecy anymore.” He tilts his chin to the side as he offers an attempt of consolation.

“Yeah… I have been saying that, haven’t I?” You mumble, staring ahead.

“What are you gonna do?” Harry tentative asked, breaking through the small moment of silence.

“I don’t know…” You answer with a shrug before turning to him again, “He just ran away when he found out.” You feel your jaw tensing, “You know… He… Bucky deserves to be happy. I want him to be happy.” You state matter-of-factly, “Me and the baby? I’m not sure we’re the best for him right now…” You place your hand over your belly, turning your gaze away as your conversation with Anna replays in your head. It kills you that you’ve caused him so much pain… He seems better now. Everyone says she’s helped him a lot…It crushes you there’s a possibility that you may get in the way of his happiness again…

When you look back at Harry his lips are a thin line, the corner of his mouth is twitching a bit and his eyes a little wider than normal. You sigh, that’s an expression you’re starting to be familiar with… when he really wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

“Say it.” You nod and indulge him with a small curl of your lips.

“Alright…” He moves on his seat, closer to you, as he rests his elbows on his thighs, “I can’t really speak for you and him, but… God, I think about when I found out about my kids. Me and Lisa were in our honeymoon.”

Your eyebrows pull a bit closer as you tip your head, offering him his full attention. You didn’t know that. Despite spending a lot of time with him the last few days he hadn’t spoken about his wife that much.

“We were just starting our life as a married couple, she had just gotten the job she’s been fighting so hard for so long and the last thing on our minds were kids.” His jaw tightens, “We cried in bed together the whole night. And no, it wasn’t happy tears.” He chuckles softly and shakes his head, “She was a very religious woman and not for a second did she consider an abortion. As for me, I respected her decision even if I was terrified… God knows how damn scared I was…the closer I got to take care of something until then was a tamagotchi.”

In spite of his serious tone, you can’t help let out a small laugh and shake your head, which he follows.

“To be honest, I didn’t want to be a father at that moment. I wasn’t ready and I didn’t want it.” He admits.

“What happened then?” You ask.

“We went to the first ultrasound. At first I was unimpressed by the smudge on the screen,” He makes a face, “I couldn’t see the appeal…” Before he continues, you catch the glint softening his eyes, as the memory flashes in his mind, “But then, their little heartbeats resounded through the room… fast …furiously.” A wide grin spread across his face, “That was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard and I caught my own heart in my throat.”

You can’t help but smile at the sincere love he pours out with his words as you remember your own first time with the heartbeat of your little one.

“They came in two and they took my breath and my heart away.” Harry sighs “They still do… Most times literally. Try to go to the mall with two 3 year old little devils under a sugar rush…” His eyes widen comically.

Laughing, you reach out and squeezes his hand, “I get it.” You say tenderly, “It’s been the same for me.”

“What I mean is, becoming a parent was life changing for me, even if I wasn’t ready, or even wanted that when it happened… And you say it’s been the same for you… You know Bucky way better than I do. Maybe better than anyone…Do you think he would want to be kept out of it?” Despite the challenging words, his tone is nothing but fond and caring. “Do you want to keep him out of it?”

Do you? The question echoes in your mind as you gulp down. Is leaving Bucky out of the picture the right thing to do?

The questions keep hunting your thoughts on the next day, and then the next one and the day after that…

~~~

After you’re released from the hospital you remain in observation at the tower’s med bay for another day and then you’re completely released with a physiotherapy schedule for your wrist.

The very first thing you do is to set up a session with Heloise. You feel like a complete an utter failure for letting the accident happen. You’d been doing good, in control of your emotions and not being reckless in any way until that day and you just feel like you’ve made no progress at all, which Heloise quickly disagrees. She makes you see you had a breakdown episode triggered by a very emotional moment, yes, and it’s ok considering how good you’d been doing. All you have to do is to accept it and, in her words, to stop being such a “whining preggo” and carry on.

The team couldn’t have taken the news of your pregnancy better. It seems like the Avengers are truly a bunch of uncles and aunts just waiting for a kid to spoil. Tony is the most thrilled, you dare say, going as far as starting to reform an entire floor for you and your baby.

Your protests and attempts to tell him you’re not even sure if you’re staying at the tower fall on death ears.

Nobody mentions the fatherhood of the baby again, but you know the subject lingers in the air. You’re grateful they keep it that way. You really want to talk to Bucky first… eventually. 

The next days you spend without a single word from Bucky. You don’t try to reach out either. You’re too scared to do so. You know he’s in town, cause Steve subtly gives you the information during dinner. But that’s all. 

While the avoidance game you’ve grown so used to play right now doesn’t blow up in your face, like you know it will without a doubt in the world, you follow Heloise’s advice by heart and try to move on with your life.

That’s why you’re now full of bags in one hand, being followed by a just as packed Wanda to your room, after a tour through a series of maternity shops. You couldn’t help yourself and visited a few baby shops, too. With the secrecy gone, it’s the first time you buy something for your baby and it’s been more fun than you ever imagined.

“I can’t believe how tiny this is,” Wanda gushes, sprawling one of the jumpsuits you’ve bought on your bed, where she’s sitting, after you get into your room and leave the many bags around the floor.

Sitting right next to it, you admire the small piece of fabric. It’s white, with little green hearts all over it. Beaming, you imagine your baby in it, wondering how they would look like…

“And these, oh my God, I can’t deal with these,” Wanda squeaks, pulling a micro pair of sneakers out of one of the bags.

Chuckling, you reach out and she hands them to you, “I can’t believe you convinced me to buy these… I doubt the baby will wear it more than once or even at all.” You shake your head, not resisting to bringing the tiny shoes to your nose and relishing at the adorable baby smell.

“Oh, you’re gonna need good shoes alright, it’s a super soldier’s kid after all, this baby will run marathons before we even know it-“ She pauses when she spots your smile falling, “Oh, honey…” She places a hand on your cheek. 

Your head drops and you shrug, “He didn’t even call me…” You stare at the pair of sneakers on your lap. You hate you’re feeling like this. In the end, you were hoping he would want to talk to you, even if it were to yell at you, blame you for not telling him or saying he wanted nothing at all with you or your baby… it would kill you, but you would prefer that at the complete silence.

“Hey,’ Wanda lifts your chin with her finger, “Everything will be alright.” She gives you a sweet smile and despite you doubt it very much, she says it with so much conviction you smile back at her, letting her comforting words reach your heart.

At your request, Wanda hasn’t told anyone about what she saw in your mind of your conversation with Anna and hasn’t even touched the subject with you again. She did seem displeased about the subject, but she’s one of your sisters, of course she’s biased. 

“I love you. You know that, right?” You say in a low,soft voice.

Her lips grow even wider, “Of course I do. And I know you’ll love me even more when head to the kitchen to grab us some sandwiches…. Nutella and peanut butter, how about that?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

Your mouth waters. The smartass little witch. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re reading my mind.” You eye her.

“I would never,” She gasped exaggeratedly and places her hand in her heart while getting up, “The things I have to endure in this tower… the accusations…so unfair…” She keeps her chant of faked outraged exclamations while swaggering to leave your room. Not without winking at you before closing the door. 

You giggle quietly and shake your head at her antics. You let your back fall down to the mattress and sigh, beholding the little shoe in your hand. It truly is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen…

A few minutes later, a knock on the door makes you hold back a laugh and roll your eyes, ‘You better be knocking because you have my sandwiches in your glowing hands, Scarlet Witch.” You shout before you get up and run to the door, opening it at once.

You halt completely at the sight. It’s not Wanda.

Bucky is the one who stands before you, instead.

You suck in a breath as your heart runs up to your throat. If it’s a second, a minute or several of them you wouldn’t know. But you two spend a moment like this… frozen in time, staring at each other.

It doesn’t slip from your attention the knots on his hair as the locks falls around his face, the deep circles in his eyes, his even thicker and disheveled beard, the crumpled t-shirt…

Your heart shatters.

When your eyes look for his again, you notice they’re not focused on your face anymore. They’re dropped to your hand and you realize you’re still holding the baby sneakers. You instinctively tighten the grip on them. 

His blue gaze meets yours one more time before you hear his husky voice, “Is it mine?”

The sting in your chest makes your whole body stiffened as your eyes shut down. 

It’s not a surprise he would ask that, you ́ve been imagining scenarios for this conversation in your mind the last few days and in every single one of them that specific question was said, and it is a fair question, you know it is. But in spite of you it hurts… a deafening and profound pain. Deep down this is not how you really wanted to first hear from him, unrealistic as the other option would be, this is not how you wanted it to go… You’re tired, you realize, so damn tired, and you can ́t help the frustration, the anger bubbling in your chest as you snap your eyes open.

“Fuck you, Bucky.” You burst out through clenched teeth, pushing the door to close it. 

“No, wait …” He stops you from shutting the door with his hand. “Please…I need… I need to talk.”

You study him and regard the plea plastered not only on his words but into his whole demeanour as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth and his darting eyes roam around your face. 

Breathing in a long and hopefully calming intake of air, you step back, opening the door fully as you do so. He’s right. You two need to talk. No more delaying this.

He follows you to inside your room after taking in a deep breath for himself. As you take your seat on the end of your bed, you gesture to the armchair in front of you.

While he tentatively sits down, shoulders pulled together, you watch him glancing at the many bags on the floor, before his gaze turns to the little jumpsuit outspread over the sheets. As much as you try, you can’t read the expression on his face… You keep holding the little sneakers in your hand, as if they’re a shield to protect you from however this conversation goes. 

“Yes,” you finally break the silence before he looks up at you with a frown, “It’s yours.” You nod and can’t help the defensive tone to sweep into your voice.

His eyes shut and he hangs his head low, ‘I know, I know…” he mutters, sounding frustrated. You know him too well to understand the frustration is at himself when he raises his gaze back to you, “I knew it from the very first moment I found out… I don’t know why I asked that…” He looks apologetic.

You nod and the tenseness in your jaw is almost painful as the silence settles between you two and his hands clutch his thighs. Your throat hurts with unsaid words, but you hold yourself back, more for selfish reasons than to favor him. You’re not sure what to say just yet, what he wants to hear…

It’s almost a whisper when he speaks again, eyes bored into yours, “That night… when you called me,” he gulps down, “You said you had something important to tell me…” he falters, but he doesn’t really need to finish.

“Yes,” you purse your lips, swallowing back the emotions swelling in your throat, “I had just found out.”

The hurt twisting his features it’s like you’ve just stabbed him, “God,” his head falls down and he dips his fingers into his hair, supporting himself with his elbows on his legs, “I was such a fucking jerk.” He hisses.

The guilt burning your chest on how miserable he looks is stronger than any other of the many feelings inside you right now and you have to refrain from running to him and holding him tightly in your arms, “Bucky, I-“

“You should’ve said it anyway,” He snaps his head to you, eyes red with unshed tears and voice harsh with…anger, resentment. “You should’ve told me over the fucking phone anyway, instead of insisting we should meet in person-”

“You said you had no interest in hearing what I had to say.” The way you shout shuts him up, all your muscles stiff as a rock, “Not if it had anything to do with us,” your voice grows lower, almost weak. The warmth of a tear runs down unbidden over your cheek.

He keeps his mouth shut. Staring at you as his chest heaves.

“I know I could’ve handled it better.” You admit, looking down at the little shoe still in your hand, “But do you think it was easy for me? Hearing how you didn’t want anything to do with what I had to say when I had just found out about our- m-my baby?”

His up till now hardened expression softens and his gaze drops to the sneaker in your hand. Your heart pounds into your chest watching how he bites his trembling lips.

“I did try to tell you at Steve’s party, but-” You sigh, cutting yourself off as your shoulders falls. You don’t want this. You don’t wanna fight him. So you tell him exactly that, “I’m tired of this Bucky… This vicious cycle of us hurting each other, over and over… I really don’t wanna fight you.” You plead, succeeding on steadying your voice.

He reconnects his gaze to yours and you can see how hard he’s trying not to break down, making your chest even tighter. He nods once, “Me neither… I’m sorry.” His soft voice sounds crumbly.

You nod back, sweeping your tongue over your dry lips, “I’m sorry, too.”

“I- ahm- is everything ok with you? Both of you?” His voice is small but you can hear him as he looks down at your belly and fidget with his fingers, “You’re three months long, aren’t you?”

A small smile curls your lips, “Yes, we’re both fine.” You brush your belly with the hand wrapped into the orthosis, “Ahm… It’s counted in weeks nowadays, we’re getting into our 15th together.”

You love to see a small and brief smile twisting his lips as well. The heaviness from moments ago slowly leaving the air.

“The accident,” He frowns, “How did it happen? You’re the best driver I know.” He repeats Sam’s words.

“Oh,” the smile leaves your face, “I just… I got distracted,” You shrug, “Aparently; it happens a lot to pregnant women.” You purposely omit the part where you had an emotional break down after talking to his girlfriend. It’s really not the time, if there will ever be a time to talk about it.

He fixes his gaze on your face, studying you for a moment and you know he’s not really satisfied with your explanation, so you decide to move the subject to something you consider the most important thing at that moment. 

“How are you feeling about all this, Bucky?” You ask with no hesitation, dying to know what’s really going through his mind. 

His lips part at your question before he looks to the side. Breathing heavily, he uses the back of his hand to wipe a tear that finally escapes from his eye. “I-I don’t know Y/N… I don’t know if I can do this,” he murmurs without looking back at you.

Your stomach drops as you struggle to breathe properly. As much as you understand it can be hard on him, you can’t deny you hoped it would be for him as easy as it was for you to be happy about your pregnancy, despite all the doubts you do have. Instead, he’s a well of insecurities and uncertainties, looking miserable and ashamed to even look at you. God, you hate how vulnerable you feel right now.

A quiet “Oh,” is all that slips from your lips as you instinctively hold tightly the little sneaker, the one you kept secured in your hands this whole time, against your belly. 

“It’s all so…I- I’ve never thought this would happen…” His voice is small as he keeps his face away from yours. “Especially not now… you and I, we-” 

“Listen, Bucky.” You interrupt him, raising a hand. 

His broken gaze meet yours once again and you bite your lip, almost faltering in what you have to say. But you have to, for him… for you, but mostly for your baby. You let the strength gather in your chest. 

“I understand how new and unexpected this is…Trust me, it’s all the same for me. And yeah, I completely understand you need some time to think. I just need you to know that, if that’s what you want, I won’t keep you from being a father.” 

He shifts in his seat at the word, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you

“I couldn’t do that.” You continue, keeping your voice surprisingly firm, “Not to you and not to them.” You look down at your belly briefly, before fixing on him, “You have a choice, and whatever you decide you have my acceptance and support.”

You pause and he nods, casting his eyes down.

You sigh, getting to the point you’ve been pondering about all these days and finally decides it’s the right thing for him and all of you, “However, if you’re wondering if this baby will change anything between us, it will not. And I’m sure we’re on the same page here.”

He directs his full attention to you in close knit eyebrows.

You straighten up your posture, “If you want to be a part of this,” You nod down to your belly, “Our relationship will be restricted to this kid, and nothing else. Like you once said and now I agree: this love of ours. It ain’t good for us.” You shake your head, trying to ignore the lump growing in your throat as you say these words.

You’re surprised the mask you’ve put on your face hasn’t crumbled down yet and only hope he doesn’t notice how hard it is for you to say that. It’s not a lie. You truly realized that, despite the tremendous and unyielding love you will always feel for him, you two as a couple hasn’t worked and will never work. You’re finally agreeing with him, but it doesn’t mean it’s easy, not at all. 

“Oh, I get it.” His expression is back on being hard as he speaks. Shoulders high and chest puffed, “You’re with that guy from Steve’s party… Harry, right?”

“What?” Your eyes narrow as you’re genuinely confused, not trusting in your ears.

“That’s why you’re telling me all this, you’re with that guy, aren’t you?” He challenges, with his chin up and folding his arms in front of his chest.

Your mouth parts in sheer disbelief, “Oh my God, Bucky…” you get up, dropping the little sneaker on the bed as you bring a hand to your forehead. You turn away from him, trying to breathe and calm down before you would punch the guy in the face, “See?” you briskly turn to him, throwing your arms to the air in exasperation. “We keep ourselves in this lingering loop of hurt, of anger… I need Peace, I need to focus on my baby right now, I don’t need this…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He raises his hands in a sign of peace, “I’m just… being dumb, I guess. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking mess. It’s… It’s all too much.” He runs his hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

Staring down at him, you take another calming sigh. You really don’t want to fight him anymore. Stepping closer, you kneel down in front of him, placing each of your hands on the arms of the chair. As he holds your gaze, you catch the twitching bone on his jaw.

“Listen…” You say softly, “I’m not with him, or anyone else.” You shake your head…Despite everything, the idea of being with anyone else is still unthinkable to you, “I don’t want a relationship right now. I need to be on my own… me and my baby.”

He remains quiet, just listening to you. Your lighter tone doing little to make his expression lose the hardness. 

“And you…” You continue, “You need time to think about all of this, if you want a part in this or not and you need…” You breathe out, “You need Anna.”

His eyes widened for a second before he blinks a number of times. Lips parted slightly, as the hardness on his face vanishes. 

“I remember when I first saw you with her,” You force a sad smile to twist your lips, “You ran into the room and swept her into your arms. I’d been back for weeks and hadn’t seen you smile yet.” With a finger you wipe a stubborn tear. You don’t want to cry. You want to remain strong… for you and for him, “You looked so happy in seeing her. The most beautiful smile on your face.” As sadness takes over your features, his face is now stoic… unreadable. You hate when you can’t guess what he’s feeling, “I know how much I’ve hurt you, Bucky. This loop of ours I keep talking about… I know I’m the one who started it… If she made you happy after that… I truly think you need her.”

There. You said it. The sound of your beating heart hammers in your ears as your eyes keeps unyielding on his indecipherable ones. You know that’s exactly how he feels, though. You’re just finally agreeing with what he said to you that night in this same room, which seems like happened ages ago now. You can’t lie to yourself. You said then you would go down with this ship and that’s true, but it’s also true you’re tired of hurting him and yourself. You don’t belong together and if Anna is the one who makes him happy, so be it.

While the sad blue of his eyes fixed on yours, the silence lingers… and it starts to weigh on your shoulders. You need him to be ok, you know he agrees with you, but you get your pregnancy might be a lot for him to take in…Your hand tentatively reaches for his… When he pulls out, you flinch and a sting cuts through your chest.

You’re tired… so damn tired…

“It’s been an exhausting day, Bucky.” You say after a few seconds of heavy silence and swiftly get up, avoiding his gaze this time, “I think you should go home and whenever…” Your eyes flick to him for a split second. He’s not looking at you. “If you make up your mind and realize what you want… we can talk again.” You walk past him towards the way out of your apartment.

You open the door and turn back around. He’s right there with you already and rushes past you without saying a single word, vanishing into the hallway towards the elevator.

When Wanda knocks on the door with a trail of sandwiches you thank her and says you actually need to rest, leaving the sandwiches for later.

When you lumber to your bed, you reach beneath your pillow and grab the little blue velvet box, the one which hasn’t left your side every night since when it was handed to you. A symbol of what you lost… After you glance at the beautiful diamond one last time, you lock the little box inside your safe.

When you lay your weary body down on the mattress and shut your eyes close, trying to drag yourself to sleep, you don’t notice the little white jumpsuit with green little hearts all over it is no longer where you had left it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No more secrets.

With his back against the headboard of his bed, Bucky twirls the soft tiny piece of clothing in his fingers. He hasn’t stopped looking at the little jumpsuit he scrounged from your room ever since he bolted his way out of there. 

When he told you he didn’t know if he could do it, he wasn’t lying. He’s been so damn scared ever since he heard the doctor saying the words that…changed his life, he might say. He’s never felt like this before and he has already faced too much damn scary shit in his long life. It was all a blur to him as his legs moved on his own and he spent the whole night wandering around the city.

Sighing, he realizes what a fucking coward he is and his eyes shut. It took him days to finally gather the courage to go talk to you. Steve offered his support, like he always does… Nat grabbed him by the collar and threatened his manhood, of course… Sam tried to reason with him, how Bucky had expected him to do. Wanda was the one to surprise him, calling him stupid when he expected gentle words from her. Can he blame her, though? Isn’t stupid exactly what he is?

Despite the effort of his friends, it was only time, the passing of the days that managed to get him out of his mind and finally go talk to you. Time he spent thinking solely of you, of the baby you are expecting… Replaying in his mind how he spent every single day which the baby already existed inside you, a little piece of you and him, getting stronger by the minute without him having a clue about it. 

He never, not for one single second, thought that this would happen to him. Having a kid…a little helpless creature that would depend completely on him, on both of you together…There’s no way he wouldn’t fuck this up…

How in the world a fucked up freak like him could be a father. A good one? He doesn’t even know how to deal with his emotions towards you…towards Anna… or himself, to be honest. How, in the middle of that mess, one that he took a great part on creating, would he learn how to be a father? 

He knocked on your door and you’ve never looked as beautiful as when he laid his eyes on you. He saw the tiny shoe in your hand and his mind went dizzy. The coward in him took over as he insulted you and the history of you and him by asking if the baby was his… What a dumbass…

Taking you over, he noticed how comfortable you seemed with the idea of the baby. How could you not be freaking out? You acted so elegantly, so composedly, so…maturely. His love for you, the one he keeps trying to wipe away from his chest, swelled even more and made him be unable to find his breath. 

And when he heard you saying the exact same words he had told you once, that the love of yours wasn’t good for neither of you, he truly understood what dying would feel like…What right does he have to feel that way, like he wasn’t the one to force you to think like that in the first place… like he didn’t agree with you? There it is. The mess…it’s all his fault.

The kid has been lucky enough to have you as a mother, would he want to taint that with all his dark shit? Deep down, he knows the right thing to do would be to spare this child of the burden of having him in their life. It would be better for everyone, but especially for the kid… he knows that.

But why the hell does his heart feels like it’s going to combust ever since he gets a glimpse of this tiny little piece of cloth. 

For a second, he wonders if his old self, the one Steve keeps gushing about, would’ve been a good father… Ever since the hospital he’s been searching through his knotty memories and an image keeps flashing in his mind… a little baby, all in white, one he held so close to his chest when he, himself, was nothing more than a boy. If he tries hard he still can feel the relishing fluffiness of their blanket against him. His sister… Rebecca. He doesn’t remember being scared then, all he remembers is feeling so drawn to that little creature in his arms…

Perhaps…

Gazing down at the onesie, he sprawls the soft fabric all over his metal hand. It fits almost perfectly. When he smiles, he doesn’t even notice.

Is he really so scared of something that could fit in that tiny little thing? 

The doorbell rings and his easy smile drops.

Anna…

He gulps down and carefully folds the jumpsuit, placing it beneath one of his pillows before getting up to open the door. They haven’t really talked ever since the hospital. While he bolted, he heard his name being called by her, but he didn’t let her catch up to him. He needed to be alone. And then he avoided talking to her like the plague.

He’s almost certain she’s been doing the same, since she didn’t try to reach out for him again, not once, not even to talk about their cancelled trip. It’s an odd feeling to him, the need to avoid her. Anna has always meant comfort and guidance whenever he felt lost, not knowing what to do, what to feel… However, this time, all he wanted was to be alone… to think things through for himself.

But he knows they have to sort things out. He has to understand how she’s been feeling about all this and he owes her an explanation, a position of some sort… that’s why he’s called her to come and talk.

When he opens the door, he halts and the sight makes his heart ache. She has her hair high in a messy ponytail and not in the usual stylish waves. There’s none of the habitual makeup on her face and the dark circles matches his as her eyes cast downwards. The corner of her lips curl in the same direction… Clearly, it hasn’t been easy for her either and it breaks his heart that he has neglected her so much these days, acting so selfishly and distant. 

“Hi,” his voice is soft and low, “Come in,” He steps back to give her room.

When she passes by him to get into his living room, she doesn’t spare a glance at him. He can’t really tell why, but this time, he doesn’t try to greet her with a kiss like he’s used to. Maybe it’s guilt.

“How’ve you been doing?” She quietly mummers, finally looking at him as she stands a few feet away from where he has just closed the door.

Bucky just nods and pulls up a tight smile, noticing as she doesn’t take off her coat and keeps standing up, fumbling with her fingers, not moving to take a seat anywhere in his living room.

“What about you? Are you ok?” He timidly asks, placing his hands on his back pockets.

“Have you talked to her?” She quickly ignores his question.

The air grows thick between them, something so unfamiliar for him and Anna. Once again, he just nods.

“Is she… is she and the baby alright after… after the accident?” Her question is tentative and shaky.

“Yeah… yeah. They’re fine. Guess they got lucky.” He tucks his shoulders.

“Did she tell you how it happened?”

His eyebrows pull together as his head tilts to the side, this is not a question he expects to hear from Anna, especially as she asks it in such a small voice, her lips becoming white as she press them in between her teeth. At least he didn’t expect her to ask about it right now, after he spent days without looking for her and they have so much more to talk about. Why is she focusing so much on your accident? Is she running away from the main subject? Is she afraid of something he might tell her? 

“Ahm… yeah.” He keeps frowning, “She said she got distracted and nothing more. I think it’s weird, but we didn’t really get to talk much about it.” He steps closer to her, aiming to reach out and touch her, “Anna…, listen, I’m sorry, I-”

“It was me.” She bursts out and Bucky stops on his tracks, “It happened because of me, Bucky. It was my fault she got in an accident. ” Anna chest heaves as her fists clench tight on her sides.

Bucky steps back as the air is knocked out of his lungs and his forehead scrunches up in confusion. Her words a puzzle in his mind as he watches how her face contorts into something… desperate, “What?” He puffs out.

Anna’s head hangs low while her eyes close and she takes a deep sigh, as if to control her frantic breathing caused by the words she has just let out, “I-I, before the airport, I went to the tower and-.’

“What? Wait…” Bucky interrupts her, “You said you had some work stuff to do. Did you lie to me?” What the hell is she telling him? “What did you go there for?” He can’t avoid the biting tone to sweep into his voice.

She turns her head sideways, avoiding looking straight at him, before replying, quietly. “At Steve’s party… I-I listened Natasha talking to Y/N, about-” She breathes in, before directing her gaze to his, “about her being pregnant…”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot high on his forehead.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out who the father was.” She shrugs weakly, tears glistening her eyes.

“You knew?” He utters through his tightened teeth. He can feel the shock leaving his expression as a scowl twists it and a dangerous rush of anger burns on his chest. 

“I-I“, She stutters, looking lost. Finding no words, she only nods.

A scoff slips from Bucky’s lips before he runs his hands down his mouth, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

His harsh tone makes her flinch but he doesn’t find in himself to take it back, to tone down his demeanor. Not now. Not when a somber sense of betrayal, of deceive sting on his heart. 

“I- I was so scared of losing you, Bucky. I didn’t know what to do. And… and…fuck…” She curses under her ragged breath, as she looks the other way. 

“And then you invented that fucking trip…” Bucky fumes, shaking his head in disbelief. He inhales deeply. He needs to calm down. He needs to understand. “What did you tell her? When you went to the Tower… What did you talk about, huh? Tell me, Anna.” He demanded.

“I asked her to give us time…’ She answers without hesitation, moving her pained stare to him again, “I told her how fucked up you got when she left and how I helped you get better, that… that if you knew about the baby you wouldn’t focus on yourself, on us… I… I said that she shouldn’t have come back.”

Exposed… Betrayed…Manipulated…. These are some of the words that cross his mind as a dull ache grasps his thundering heart and his whole body is stiff as a rock. He stares at Anna, but he doesn’t really see her…he trusted her… he thought he could trust her… and now he feels like someone has dragged the floor from under him. The floor that has been keeping him supported this whole time… He’s lost.

“Then the accident happened right after…” Anna spoke again and her voice is so small he barely registers the sound. “She could’ve hurt herself, her baby…” She blinks and her face contorts in sheer horror, “I’ve never hoped for something like that to happen, never… I promise.” She cries out, her eyes begging him to believe her. “But I know it’s my fault. It’s my goddamn fault. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all these days. I kept thinking how…” She purses her lips, eyes shifting around as she looks for the right word, “Wrecked I left her there, she wasn’t in a condition to drive… I didn’t want this to happen, but it did, and because of me, because of my actions.” Anna chokes on her words, hitting on her own chest with her hand.

There are tears roaming down freely on her face now. Bucky can see the honest regret into her words and something in the back of his skull tells him he shouldn’t blame her and that, rationally, it’s not her fault, not entirely at least. But there’s something feral surging inside him. Something he’s never felt before… a primal emotion… a consuming and agonizing need to… to protect. To keep the object of this powerful feeling, safe, guarded, shielded, unharmed.

“Please, say something.” She implores, reaching out for him.

“Do you have any idea of what could’ve happened?” He shouts, the tormenting feelings inside him escape in an outburst as he jerks his arm away from her touch, making her recoil, “I don’t care about how you were feeling or what you felt it was better for me, they could’ve been hurt or… or worse… because of you…” He points an accusing finger at her.

She shivers under his hard glare, but doesn’t say anything, shutting her eyes closed.

“And you lied? You- you knew it…” He starts pacing from one side to the other on his living room, betrayal lacing his voice, “You knew it, Anna, and instead of telling me, you came up with that fucking trip-“ He halts, to stare at her, “You- you fucking manipulated the whole situation. You manipulated me.” He shouts even louder, “You didn’t have the right.” He bites his lower lip, shaking his head at her, “You didn’t…I trusted you.”

“Bucky, I-I didn’t mean, I thought…I-“. She fumbles with her words and moves towards him, but pauses when he steps back.

“I can’t do this, I can’t talk to you right now.” He turns around, dipping his fingers in his locks. He’s too angry, too defensive. That protective urge ruling his thoughts and actions. He’s afraid of what he might say… might do. He could tear the world apart right now…

He takes a deep breath as his arms drops and he turns to her again, noticing how she’s shrinking into herself, pleading eyes on him.

Her breaths are short and fast before she licks her lips to try to speak again, “Bucky-“

“I think you should leave now and we shouldn’t see each other… at least not for a while.” He pulls on a steadier, calmer voice, averting his eyes and folding his arms in front of his chest, biting on the inside of his cheeks.

The room is quiet when he hears the shuddering breath she takes, but he doesn’t look back at her. He simply can’t.

“I get it.” She mutters, “You ́re angry and don’t blame you. I just want you to know I never meant to hurt you… That’s the last thing I’ve ever wanted.” She reaches for his elbow, and this time he doesn’t pull away. His eyes meet her sad ones, taking in the sorrow resting on her face.

He feels his chest tightening, making it hard to breathe. It’s not just anger… He’s sorry, too. Sorry for the emotions he feels slipping through his fingers, the feelings he had when he looked at Anna… The admiration, the safety, the love- yes love. It’s not like the love he feels for you, not at all, but it was a love after all. Something else pricks at the pit of his stomach… an emergent sense of guilt… his old pal. Somehow, this, all this mess, it’s his fault. He’s damn sure of that.

Swallowing down the turmoil, his jaw tenses. He finds nothing to say to her.

Anna nods slowly, aiming her gaze down as she withdraws her hand from him and swiftly moves towards the door.

With his back turned to her, Bucky hears it when she opens the lock.

“You know…” Her small, but now steadier voice resounds from behind him, “I once said there was no deal breaker for me when it came to you and me…” He can sense the sad smile through her words, “I…I just couldn’t guess that, in the end, I would be the one to break us.”

When she leaves, Bucky lets out a deep breath. Without thinking twice, his feet take him to his room. Sitting down on his bed, he reaches for the little jumpsuit beneath his pillow. A calming rush sweeps into his tormented chest and, through it all, a stubborn little smile makes its way to his lips.

He finally realizes…

He already is a father…No one can take that away from him. Not even himself.

All he hopes is to not fuck this up even more.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new path!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Floof. What?

“Will you want to know?”

“Know what?” Your brows knit at Nat, who stands by the examination bed with Wanda at her side.

“The sex of the baby, of course.” She rolls her eyes as Wanda giggles. 

“Oh, I’m not sure, to be honest…”

“I’m dying to know.” Wanda smiles, “But it’s your call, of course.”

You smile back at her and wonder if Bucky would want to know… Your conversation with him happened the day before and you didn’t feel right to let him know then about the ultrasound scheduled for today. You didn’t want to overwhelm him when he seemed so lost… so unsure…

“Do you know this medical team Tony hired?” Wanda asks, taking you out of your trail of thoughts.

“Ahm, yeah, I went through a first appointment with one of the doctors already to tell my and the baby’s medical history. They’re experts, the best of the best, Tony said,” You add fondly. With the secret gone, you feel more comfortable with doing the prenatal care and everything else at the Tower’s med bay, the most advanced medical place you could ask for. Tony jumped with happiness when you asked him about doctors. He hired a whole new team with expertise in both obstetrics and genetics, considering the fatherhood of the baby. 

You still don’t know if you’re raising the kid at the Tower, but you’re damn sure if you don’t watch it, this child would be spoiled to rotten by those uncles and aunts.

“Did you call Bucky?” Nat asks, trying to act with nonchalance about the question.

You’re about to answer, when you see Wanda’s face lighting up. “She didn’t have to.” She beams.

Squinting your eyes at her, you don’t have time to ask for an explanation when you hear a soft knock on the door, catching the attention of the three of you. Your heart races when you see his face peeking through the door, which is a tad open.

Bucky.

“Hey… May I come in?” The timid ask is directed at you as his head is tilted slightly down and his eyes are looking up at you through his lashes.

“Yes, of course.” It slips from under your breath easily as you try to keep the smile on your face from getting too big. He’s there, which makes your chest melt, but you don’t know on what terms yet.

Placing his hands on his back pockets, he approaches you as his shoulders pull together and his lips tighten in a thin line. You notice he’s trying to make himself small, looking almost apologetic, as if he didn’t really feel like he has the right to being there. All you want is to scream how much you want him there with you, but you hold yourself back, to first understand what his presence means.

“Barnes,” Natasha calls as he gets to the other side of your bed, facing your friends.

It’s only then Bucky seems to notice there’s more people in the room, lifting his gaze, up till now fixed on you, to Nat and Wanda both stare at him with little smirks on their lips.

“Oh, hey…” He blinks, seeming lost for a moment.

“Hey… Well, now that you’re not alone,” Wanda claps her hands, “We can wait outside, right, Nat?” She aims a pointed look at your other friend.

“What? Come on, Y/N said we may be able to see the sex today. I wanna check whether this baby is a traitor or not.”

“Ok, bye. We’ll talk to you guys later.” Wanda ignores her protests completely while she pulls a very unhappy Nat by the hand.

You can’t help but chuckle and when you look at Bucky you catch him doing the same. For a moment, you two stay like this, gazing at each other, with silent smiles curling the lips of the two of you. You’re the one to let the smile drop first, being shortly followed by him, the unresolved questions rushing into your mind and lingering between you two.

“Hey-”

You two start talking in unison but, once again, someone at the door catches your attention.

“Hello, hello.” Doctor Nadine, the one you had talked previously barges in, eyes focused down on her tablet while she walks inside the examination room, “I see momma is already here, very good, “ When she lifts her gaze to your direction, her eyes lay on Bucky, “Oh, and the baby daddy?” She raises her eyebrow. The medical team is aware of the fatherhood of the baby, but her surprised expression shows she wasn’t expecting to find him there, an assumption she made because you told her yourself the baby’s father wasn’t around.

You turn a questioning look at Bucky, only to find expectancy through his gaze on you.

“Yes,” The answer comes from the lips of both of you together.

He lets out a breathy smile as your heart leaps in your chest. He’s there. He’s really there.

He stands beside you, straightening his posture and giving Doctor Nadine his full attention as she professionally resumes the procedures for the ultrasound, giving some explanations as she does so. She reaches for the ultrasound transducer to spread the gel on your stomach and you watch his eyes navigating to the spot. The first time he sees your growing belly. The instant and new interest coloring his gaze makes you swallow down the intense feelings bubbling in your chest.

“Ok, let’s take a look at our little bear down here, ha, there it is,” The doc says, gently moving the transducer in circles as the image, that now seems more and more like a baby, appears on the screen, gaining your attention.

A wide grin spreads twists your lips. You’ve done this a number of times already, but you never cease to marvel at the feeling and the sight of having a life growing inside you. The sound of a sharp inhale makes you look at its direction. Bucky. Your smile gets even bigger as tears start to gather in the corner of your eyes. His gaze is transfixed on the screen and his lips part slightly.

That’s when the sound of accelerated heartbeat reverberates around the room.

“Oh,” the strangled noise slips from Bucky as his eyes widen. 

You’ve been hearing the wonderful sound regularly, but this time, with Bucky there – completely astonished and in awe- it seems like it’s the first time all over again. You let out a watery laugh, aiming your gaze to the screen where your baby keeps moving around and changing position in your belly, like they’re putting on a show to you. You pity the fact you don’t get to feel them much, yet. 

“It’s something isn’t it?” The doctor says.

“Yes, yes it is.” Bucky whispers and you glance and smile at each other for an immeasurable moment. 

You’re not sure you can quite comprehend how you’re feeling right now. Seeing your baby so healthy on the screen, listening to their heartbeat and having Bucky, the father of your child, the love of your life right next to you. All the fear you’ve been feeling of doing this alone starts to shrink…

He’s there.

The doctor continues with the examination, she explains that everything seems alright and progressing as expected, despite the recent accident, which incites a sigh of relief to come out of your lungs.

“Ok…” The doctor concentrates, moving the transducer over your belly, “The little bear seems very excited in showing off to us… if they only stopped…” She narrows her eyes at the screen making you two follow the direction of her gaze, “Ha-ha, there it is.” She stops moving and focus at one spot, “Oh, I’ve never asked that, do you guys want to know the sex? Because I’ve just got the answer.”

“Oh, I guess I’d rather wait?” You turn to Bucky, “What about you?”

His glossy eyes widened for a moment, and as he looks down at you he seems taken aback, like he’s surprised to be included in the decision.

“I- ahm, I-I think I’d like to know, but, ahm I-I understand if this is something you don’t want…” He stammers, brushing the back of his neck and you feel your gut clenching at how lost he might still be feeling about the whole situation and his part on it.

“Would you keep a secret?” You lift an eyebrow at him.

“Of course.”

“Is it ok if you only tell him?’ You ask Doctor Nadine who seems somewhat amused by the scene.

“Of course,” She smiles, “We can go to the office next door and seize the opportunity to schedule a date for a screening of the Super daddy. There’s a lot we need to talk about.” She states, referring to the serum on his system, and proceeds to clean the gel up from your belly.

Bucky nods at her, but a crease appears on his forehead when he stares down at you, “Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose-”

“That’s not what you’re doing, Bucky.” You assure, “You’re the father, you’re not imposing. You have as many rights as I have when it comes to our baby.”

His whole face seems to light up when you say “our baby” and you can’t ignore how fuzzy and warm your chest become at hearing the same words.

“Ok, let’s go, dad”, Doctor Nadine claps her hands and walks towards the adjacent room, which Bucky quickly follows with a huge grin plastered on his lips. 

You chuckle, pulling down your top. You step up from the bed to go to the bathroom, your bladder trying to murder you as usual. Despite you preferring to wait, you can’t help but to feel anxious at the thought that Bucky would right now be finding out whether the baby is a boy or a girl. As you think about it, you understand why he chose to know, why it seemed so important to him.

That’s the first thing he’s taking part about the baby. The one thing he would know ahead of you, after months of staying in the shadows. You understand it’s not about a competition, but it’s more of a way for him to form a bond with the baby that would be only his and now you feel kind of glad you didn’t want to know. You smile. You’re happy that he can have this.

After you wash your hands you open the bathroom door at the same time Bucky is coming out of the Doctor’s office and into the examination room. He has a picture of the ultrasound in one hand as he uses the other to wipe the tears falling from his red rimmed eyes.

When he spots you, he lets out a sob that is soon followed by a wide and watery smile.

“Don’t tell me.” You point a warning finger at him as your heart rushes inside you.

A breathy laugh escapes his lungs, “I promise.” He places the hand with the picture over his chest and raises the other one with two fingers up in a promising sign.

“Don’t tell anyone, by the way, not even Steve… Or Nat.” You tilt your head as you walk towards him.

“I won’t.” The sentiment he pours on his gaze as you approach him would be disconcerting if it wasn’t so damn craved, “Nat might use some kind of torture on me, though,” He mocks.

“She definitely will.” You wiggle your brows and you both laugh quietly. 

A comfortable silence, one that you haven’t felt in years in his presence, settles. You could get used to that, to having that kind of peace around Bucky.

“Ahm,” He clears his throat as something seems to come up to him, “Doctor Nadine asked you to get in,” He points back towards the office’s door, “She has some exams to schedule with you.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” You reach for your bag on the hanger next to you and move to get into the office. 

“Y/N?”

You turn back to him.

“Do you wanna go grab a cup of coffee or something after?” He asks shyly, before biting the corner of his lower lip.

“Yeah.” You nod right away and you see him taking in a deep breath, “Sure, just… wait for me.” You beam, before ushering yourself into the office.

~~~

As you both wait for your orders, sitting in front of each other at a table by one of the Pastry Shop’s windows- that cute one you’ve been avoiding for so long but decided that today would be the day to give in- you ramble about every little detail of what being pregnant has been so far. Bucky only interrupts you to ask for more details. He seems drawn to every little story about morning sickness and weird cravings you’ve had till this day.

You’re more than pleased to satisfy every curiosity he might have. In fact, it feels so damn good to finally being able to talk to him about your baby as the air seems lighter and lighter between you two; it feels like you’re finally getting that peace you’ve been longing for.

Only when the waitress approaches the table with your orders on a tray, you manage to stop talking as your lips curl in an anticipating grin. 

“Here it is darlings, lemon pie and coffee for the gentleman,” She places Bucky’s order in front of him, “And, chocolate lava cake and cocoa for the lady, ugh, I’m jealous.” She winks at you and you laugh at her, “Enjoy,” she smiles, before sauntering away.

While you gawk at the world of chocolate in front of you, you’re unaware of how the blue of Bucky’s eyes hold a longing gaze and he’s unable to focus on anything else around him but you. You definitely don’t catch the sweetness of the longing on his eyes giving place to a sharp melancholy. 

“Mmmm,” you moan, stare fastened on your cake. You lick your lips, grabbing your fork, ready to dig in. 

“I’m sorry.”

The hushed words come unannounced as your hand stops midair.

You swallow down and slowly lay your fork by the plate again, your gaze following the move. You’re not sure if you’re ready to give up on the easiness you’ve been experiencing so far… but thinking there’s where the relationship of the two of you would go right away would be nothing but naïve of your part. You know there’s still much that needs to be said…to be thought of. 

The air falls heavy on your shoulders.

“What for?” You whisper, finally lifting your gaze to him, meeting his pained and pleading eyes.

He bites his lips and lets out a humorless laugh while shaking his head, “Where to start?” His expression goes serious again, “Maybe for lashing out on you when you called me that night.” He adds in a low voice. 

“No.” You frown, moving your head in a dismissive way, “No, Bucky… I could’ve handled it better.”

“You had just found out.” He states firmly, “I can only imagine how you were feeling and you called me right away… I was nothing but rude.” He looks down and you can see him running his tongue over the inside of his cheeks, “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know, Bucky.” You try to argue. The sorrow on his face being almost too much for you to take.

“Yeah, but it had been a while since we last talked and the first time you called me in the middle of the night I’m a sucker.” He scoffs at himself, “I’m sorry, please.”

The plea on his voice makes you understand how important it is for him that you accept his apology and, for him, you do, “Ok. But I’m sorry, too.” You nod.

“And then for waiting days until I get to you after I found out,” he swiftly adds. 

“It’s ok, really. I know it wasn’t easy for you to find out that way.”

“It’s just…” He fidgets with his finger over the table, “I-I got so scared… All I thought about was the many ways I could fuck this up.” He looks up at you.

Your lips close in a taut line as your heart clenches. You know how hard it can be for him… with his past, the self-doubts and self-loathing. You recognize them damn well. You wish you would’ve been a better support for him, but all you managed was to reinforce that darkness in him. You still know that. 

A faint and cold touch finds your hand over the table and your eyes drop to see his metal hand covering yours, “I’m sorry for running away from you. From us.”

You skip a breath at the words and at the sentiment in his voice. When your gaze finds his face again, he’s staring closely at your joined hands, the tenseness of his jaw evident. 

“Bucky…” you breathe; pulling your hand to your lap, as his shuts in a fist and remains there where you left it.

“Anna told me,” he says, without looking at you.

Your eyes round up for a second, “Told you what?”

“That she knew,” he worries his upper lip between his teeth, before looking up at you, “That she went to talk to you before, what she said to you…” He gulps down, “Before your accident.”

Your lips part as you hold his gaze. You didn’t expect her to tell him. You’re not even sure if you wanted him to know about that. You know it would lead to some kind of drama, that people might relate the accident with what happened before and… The look on Bucky’s face. His eyes gleam with regret, his jaw is tight with restrained anger. That’s exactly what you were trying to avoid.

“Bucky, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s not her fault.” You rest your forearms on the table, leaning closer to him, “I don’t blame her, not at all. I should’ve known better than to drive when I-” You sigh, letting your head drop for a moment, before focusing on him again, “I don’t think it’s wise to keep searching for people to blame. What happened, happened and that’s it. We need to move forward.”

“She didn’t have the right, and she knew about your pregnancy since Steve’s birthday party. She invented this trip…” His face scrunches up as he looks to the other side.

You see he’s angry, but it’s not just it. The curve on his lips, the threat of tears in his eyes… he’s also sad, hurt. The regret comes out of his pores as his fist clenches over the table. God, how you wanted to hold him and tell him everything’s fine, but… would it be the truth?

“Are you two, ahm…” You falter, you’re not sure how to ask the question or even if you should ask it all.

He looks down, before grabbing his cup of coffee to take a sip of it, “I’m not sure. I don’t know where we stand anymore,” He puts the cup down and glances at you, understanding the nature of your half made question, “I can’t see her or talk to her right now… I don’t know if it will ever change.”

“Bucky…” You say softly, “I think you should talk to her… really listen to her, if not right now, soon. I know it’s not my place to say this and…” You sigh, “But she’s been there for you for so long and she… she really loves you, I can see that.”

The frown on his forehead grows deeper at you.

“I think you should see things from her point of view for a minute. That’s what I did.” You continue, trying to explain where you’re coming from, “She caught herself in the middle of a pretty messy situation… Maybe she acted, well…” You twist your lips, using a second to think of the right thing to say, “I mean, she may have made some mistakes, but I don’t think she’s the only one to blame here, you know that, right?” Your voice is soft, hoping he doesn’t take it as you’re chastising him, which you’re not, you just wish him to see the bigger picture.

The line between his eyebrows is deep as he his eyelids droop and he absentmindedly starts playing with the cup of coffee in front of him. You see he’s processing… absorbing your words, before he speaks again, not looking back at you right away, “Yeah… I know what you mean, I dragged her into the mess.” He keeps circling his finger around the ceramic of his cup of coffee “I made her believe I could love her like-” He swallows down the word and glances up at you. 

“It’s not your fault either, Bucky. Not entirely, at least.” You’re quick to say and shrug, “We’re all grown up here. We all may be a little fucked up.” A small frown tugs at the corner of your lips, “But we’re adults and responsible for our decisions, Anna inclusive. It doesn’t mean we have to be punished by our mistakes for the rest of our lives.”

He nods slowly, “You’re right, but…” He presses his lips together, “I don’t know… I know I have to talk to her eventually, but not right now…” He shakes his head, nibbling at his lower lip.

“Ok… alright,” You sooth, “Whatever you feel like it’s the right thing for you.” 

Once again he nods, and keeps silent, focusing on his hands on the table as he inattentively pick at his nails. You know it’s weird for him to talk about Anna with you, and, if you’re honest, it is definitely weird for you, too. But you’re so tired of unsaid words, untouched subjects. You want a new path for you, for the both of you.

You grab your up till now forgotten cocoa and bring it to your mouth, taking a deliberately long taste of the drink which is getting colder by the minute. Despite the air becoming thicker, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Considering you two haven’t really spoken without ending up in a fight or any other kind of distress for the two of you since you came back, now it feels like you two are truly beginning to find a pace to work things out or at least to share your feelings honestly. This is why you take courage to continue. There’s something you two still need to settle.

“Bucky,” you call and his gaze meets yours, “Listen.” You clear your throat, “I’m so happy you’re in this with me, with the baby.” You curl your lips in a smile, which he mirrors, before your expression falls serious and steady again, “But we’re inevitably gonna be in each other’s life if we wanna do it right.” You lick your lips, before asking the question that’s been pricking at the back of your skull, “Are you sure you can handle that? I mean… being around? You wanted distance before…” You can’t help the small quiver of your voice.

“I don’t think this is what I want anymore.” He sighs and, for the second time that day, he reaches for your hand over the table. “I don’t think this is what I ever really wanted.” His words are barely a whisper and he slowly raises his gaze from your linked hands to your face. 

This time, you don’t let go and brings your other hand on top of his, trying to ignore your heart racing stubbornly inside your chest to say what you want and need to say, eyes bored into his, “You know…I’ve never felt anything as deep, as strong and so fantastically breathtaking as how I’m feeling about this baby.” You breathe, as tears tug at the corners of your eyes. 

Softness shimmers on his eyes at your words, “I-I… it’s the same for me.” A beautiful smile spreads across his face.

“And it’s only getting started, Bucky.” You lean closer, drawing little slow circles on the back of his hand with your thumb as you tighten your hold, “I really think we should focus on understanding how we’re feeling about our baby, on preparing ourselves to love this child, to take care of them, and hopefully don’t screw them up too much.” You let out a breathy, watery smile, before focusing on what you want to say again, “That’s all we should think about right now, on getting stronger, individually and as parents. For our baby.”

His eyes shut for a moment and he breathes in, before his gaze fixed on your hands again. 

“I wanna do it right.” You continue, leaning your head so your eyes would search for his. You need him to understand. “I don’t want us to hurt each other anymore, I wouldn’t bear this… that’s why I think we should leave what happened, what didn’t work out, behind. We didn’t work out as a couple, Bucky…” You gently say, with no trace of bitterness of accusation, “But maybe we still have a chance as… co-parents or whatever?” Sniffing, a watery small chuckle leaves your lungs.

Your breath sticks in your lungs as you wait for him to answer. You don’t let the hold on his hand loosen, as if he would slip through your fingers if you let him. You want him to stay. You need him to stay. You thought you could do it alone, but the taste of having him there with you proved you wrong. You need him. 

His lips are slightly parted as his eyes roam over every little corner of your face, studying you, taking you in. When he seems satisfied with whatever he finds, his lips close and form a small smirk, “You’re changed.” He observes, “I’ve noticed it yesterday already. You’re so… self-possessed, serene.” 

You chuckle, dropping your head for a moment, before looking up at him with a shy smile on your lips, “Don’t tell my therapist that, she’ll definitely want a raise.” 

He laughs quietly, and when he lets go of your hands it’s not with hatred, nor regret, nor anything like that. “I agree with you. You’re right.” He nods, “ Everything for our little - ugh,” His metal hand flies to cover his mouth as his eyes round at the almost slip, “Baby. Our little baby,” He adds, cringing. 

“James Buchanan Barnes.” You scoff, eyeing him warily. 

“I’m sorry,” He raises his hands, “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“You better.” You point a finger at him, “Or Nat torturing you would be the least of your concerns.”

As you share a laugh, you exchange a silent look laced with hope and…peace. You know it won’t be easy. Not at all. But you two can do this and that’s exactly what you say.

“We can do this, Bucky.”

“Yes. Yes, we can.”


	17. Chapter 17

It´s been four weeks since Bucky has shown up unannounced to the ultrasound appointment- that he discovered by himself after some private research, he told you- and you still can’t shake off a stupid smile from your face. Without a doubt, these have been the best weeks of your pregnancy so far. Everything seems to be great with the baby, who, according to Doctor Nadine and her team, is healthier than normal, developing better than expected. It seems to be so because the serum Hydra has used on Bucky altered his genetics system and its goodies have passed to the baby.

Bucky has been present in all of the appointments, right at your side the entire time, listening carefully and asking every single question he had. His presence, soothing and grounding, keeping you steady throughout the whole thing. You know he had been worried to death about the possibility of being responsible for any complications to the baby. The news that everything was ok was a huge relief for him too, despite you still sensing in him a deep worry about how the enhancement on its system would affect the baby’s life in general. A concern you both share.

However, for now, you both have been trying to stay positive and focusing on finding a pace – the right one- to reconnect and shape your relationship as parents of your child. Aside from the appointments and some occasional times he drops by to see how’s everything with you and the peanut, you have also been talking on the phone, whether through voice calls or text messages. Not a day goes by without you talking to each other.

You’re not gonna lie, it still feels awkward at times. You’ve never been friends to Bucky. Before your intense and passionate relationship, you two were nothing but acquainted co-workers. And after that, you’re not sure what the two of you have become. Now, on top of that, it’s not like you two can just turn into friends. You’re going to have a kid together, for God’s sake. Yeah, it’s still awkward.

The conversations have been centered exclusively on the baby and anything that concerns them. That’s why you don’t know if something has changed between him and Anna, if they have talked or anything. You prefer it that way. It’s a sensitive topic to him, but it’s the same for you. You’ve taken the part of trying and being the bigger person, saying you didn’t blame her, that you understood her point of view, giving him advice about his relationship with her… and it was in good nature, but… thinking about him and her together has never been easy and you suspect it never will be.

Oh, well… It’s hard. Something you should discuss more with Heloise in therapy. She gave you a strawberry lollipop saying it was positive reinforcement for your civilized conversation with Bucky. You wonder what she would have in store for you when you truly become able to talk about and live through the jealousy that takes over you every time a thought of him and Anna together pops into your mind. 

You continued going to the support group encounters, you feel like you’re not completely alone anymore, but the group, giving justice to its name, has truly become an important support system for you. Plus, it’s an easy way for you to see Harry regularly, who was pleased to know about things taking a turn to a better path with you and Bucky. You and Harry ended up going to the Hot-Dog trailer next to the group’s place - the one you missed because of the car accident - and then you scheduled for you to finally meet his kids, which you were excited and anxious about, you had heard so much about them you felt like you already knew each one of his little chipmunks, like he called them affectionately. 

You had planned for a picnic in their favorite park, but the rainy day forced you to move the party over to the common room at the Tower’s living quarters. Wanda has helped you set everything up, moving the furniture to place the big cloth in the center of the room, spreading pillows to accommodate everyone as you prepared the snacks with all the goodies Harry had told you the kids liked. You also put some toys and games for the kids – and for the adults, who are you kidding? You live amongst children.

That’s where you are now, along with Harry and the vivacious Luna and Jon, the three year olds that make sure to remind you every five minutes that they are turning four in a week. Luna is the spitting image of her father with her dark curls falling graciously over her big brown eyes laced with curiosity as she keeps them glued on you. Jon must’ve taken his looks from his mother, with a lighter tone on his straight short hair and his eyes are green with shades of blue. He seems quieter than Luna, who takes the lead and asks all the questions and tells all the stories, allowing her brother to make a comment or two. In his shyness, he reminds you of his father.

Wanda joins you, and soon so do Steve and Sam, who had arrived from a mission the day before. Tony’s absent on a solo mission of his own, much to the kids’ disappointment, which is reinforced by the Iron Man images on both of their shirts. Crazy for kids as much as she is, Nat is there, but she has mostly been giving you the silent treatment lately, as a result of your decision of making the baby’s sex a secret. You can only wonder what she’s been putting Bucky into.

You keep a huge smile on your face as, right in front of you, across the picnic cloth, Wanda uses her powers and the red mist to make moving drawings in the air, prompted by all sorts of excited and loud requests from the kids, whether it’s a dog, a sheep- no, a bigger sheep, an elephant, Iron Man fighting that big purple monster, or daddy with those colored swords he likes…

“They’re called lightsabers. God, how many times do I have to tell you this, guys? Show some respect…” He sighs at your side, looking at you and shaking his head in frustration as he’s completely ignored by his kids, who keep the row of requests to Wanda. 

You chuckle; prompting him to smile at you, “They’re really awesome,” you whisper, bumping his sides with your elbow, as everyone else around the cloth seems drawn by the kids energy and interested in Wanda’s little performance.

“They are, aren’t they?” He beams at you, “Thanks for this by the way, they’re having so much fun.”

“Oh, no. I’ve been wanting to meet them for so long,” You dismiss him with a wave, before grabbing a handful of popcorn. Chewing on it, you cackle at Wanda’s latest art: a Chihuahua pulling The Falcon by the wings while Captain America tries to catch them. Sam shots some protests, but the burst of belly laughs from the kids is undeniably contagious.

When you look back at Harry, you’re still laughing as the others, but he is not. Instead, he’s observing you while holding a half smile on his lips, “What?” You frown at him.

“You look happier. I like it. It’s a great look on you.”

You offer him a wide grin as you feel a wave of warmth overcoming your chest… and rushing to your cheeks.

“Daddy,” the high-pitched, but sweet voice makes you both turn to Luna, now directing her narrowed eyes and full attention to both of you as she stands on her knees over the pillow.

“Yes, chipmunk?” He says, bringing a plastic cup of orange juice to his mouth. 

“Is Y/N the girl you’ve been talking to on your phone all the time and then stay with that funny smile on your face and does like this?” She exaggerates a deep and long sigh to show what she’s talking about.

Harry chokes on the juice, as all eyes snap to the direction where you two are seated. Wanda hides a laugh with her hand and Nat sips on her coffee, but you glimpse the devilish smirk on her lips. Sam and Steve pretend to focus on the little checkers board they’ve been playing with when you glance at them. 

“Luna!” Harry shrieks, trying to glare at the little girl between coughs.

You frown at his embarrassment, a disproportionate reaction on your opinion.

“What? What have I said wrong?” Luna pouts adorably and stands on her feet, crossing her arms in front of her little body.

“Daddy didn’t want us to know, yet, Luna.” Little Jon whispers loudly, pulling the hem of his sister’s shirt.

Wanda laughs fully and loudly while Nat sports a proud smirk at the two siblings, probably pleased by the spying skills the kids are showing.

“Jon!” Harry exasperates, eyes roaming around everyone in the circle, before turning to you, dumbfounded and red as a pepper, “That’s not-this isn’t-”

“Calm down, Harry.” You laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You’re sure you’re not the girl the kids are referring to, that’s not what your relationship with Harry is about, but he hasn’t told you anything about someone that makes him sigh and now you’re curious, especially because he’s acting like a deer caught in the headlights. Before you can torture him with teasing you hear someone cleaning their throat, catching your look. 

Bucky stands by the door, with a bag in his hands and an unreadable expression on his face.

“Bucky,” you exclaim, feeling the inevitable tug at the corner of your lips, but trying to ignore your heart skipping a beat. How long has he been there? Has he heard anything? As happy as you are to see him, you can’t help the hint of apprehension at the pit of your stomach that makes your heart falter, you know he still has reservations towards Harry and you really don’t want him to assume anything, which is bullshit, of course, you and Bucky have nothing and if you wanted you could date whoever, of course, that’s definitely settled between the two of you. Was the room this hot before? 

Bucky nods timidly at you and at the others, who chant their greetings all at once: “Hey, Buck,” “Hey, Man,” “Barnes”. 

“Come on in, we ́re having a picnic,” You wave him in from your spot, swallowing down any trepidation and kicking the inner rambling off of your mind, focusing on his presence only.

“Oh no, it’s ok. I can come another time,” He answers in a small voice. Recoiling his shoulders, he presses his lips in a tense line. 

The protests from everybody – except from Harry, who seems to be trying to make himself invisible at your side- resound around the place while the kids fasten their curious eyes on the new person in the room.

Knowing damn well how uncomfortable Bucky is capable of feeling when he’s in the spotlight, you raise your brows at Wanda, which is enough to make her promptly go back to entertaining the kids, now lifting the food over the cloth to the air. The sounds of bewilderment coming from the tiny little creatures distract everyone else as you get up, using the sofa behind you as a support for your growing body.

“Come on, Barnes, you made a pregnant woman get up from the floor just to drag you by the ear. I’m a mom now, I can do that,” You taunt, getting closer to him, twisting your expression into a mocked scowl.

Letting out a heart-fluttering smile that ignites one of your own, he relents, stepping into the room and shooting that fondly look at your growing belly, like he does every time he sees you.

“Hi,” you softly say when he stands inches from you.

“Hey, I called you a couple of times, and you didn’t answer my messages, I got worried,” He cringes.

“I must’ve left my phone in my room, but it’s ok, Bucky, you don’t need an excuse to drop by,” You assure in a teasing manner, before your eyes drop to the bag in his hand, “What do we have here?”

“Oh, on my way over, I saw this and I couldn’t help it.” With a broad smile on his face, he pulls the object from the bag.

Your eyes go round and you practically squeal, grabbing the little colorful unicorn, “This is amazing, Bucky, so damn cute. And fluffy.” You squeeze the soft little stuffy against your chest.

He chuckles, brushing a lock of his own hair behind his ear, “I bought it for the peanut, but I suppose you can play with it, too.”

You roll your eyes and pull your tongue out playfully.

“Hello.”

At the tiny voice who takes you and him out of your little bubble, you see his eyes going comically round, before he lowers his head to follow the sound. Luna stands beside him, with her hands laced behind her back and mischievous interest plastered on her sweet features. 

“Hi.” His stumpy answer is a bit more than a whisper.

“I’m Luna,” the girl says her name proudly to him, “I’ll be four years old in a week. What’s your name?”

“Bucky.” He replies shortly.

As little Jon runs to stand beside his sister, you choose to remain a silent observant of the scene with great curiosity, and from the corner of your eyes you catch the rest of the adults in the room doing the exact same thing. 

“This is Jon. He’s my brother.”

“We’re twins,” Jon announces.

“But I’m older,” Luna reminds him.

“And that’s daddy.” The boy points at Harry, who quickly and shamelessly looks up to the ceiling, trying to cover up the fact he’s been watching them.

“Ok.” Bucky purses his lips and nods, seeming ready to bolt away from the interaction.

In fact, you can’t recall having seen him talking to a kid before, except for maybe Clint’s and Scott’s kids, but he always preferred to remain at least one arm’s length away from them. You know this has everything to do with the fact he still struggles to think children would want anything to do with him… 

“Your hand is shiny.” Luna states straightforwardly. 

As you feel Bucky freezing beside you decide to step in, but probably not in the way he would want you to, “His whole arm is shiny, Luna.” You whisper, leaning down and half covering your mouth like you were telling her a secret. You choose to ignore the betrayed look you receive from Bucky. 

The information makes the little girl gasp and stare longingly at said arm, covered by the long sleeve of his Henley.

“Oh, you ́re the Winter Soldier,” Jon yells, pointing at Bucky with astonishment as his jaw drops.

The nickname Bucky used to dread so much, but which in time - as he formed his name as an avenger - got a different and more positive meaning to everyone else, sounds nothing but adorable in the kid’s soft voice when said in such an enthusiastic way. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you the phantom of a smile that threatens to curl Bucky’s lips.

“Oooo, I know you,” Luna grins, bouncing on her little legs, “You’re Captain America ́s boyfriend.”

“Oh, my God! Luna!” Harry mortified attempt of reprimanding his daughter is muffled by the thunder of loud laughs filling the room, including one of your own. Horror twists Harry’s features as Bucky and Steve share widened staggered looks.

“Don ́t laugh,” Luna turns to the party, putting her hands on each side of her waist and stomping her little foot to the ground as the laughs are swiftly held back at the respect the small figure imposes, “Daddy said it’s ok that boys date. And girls, too.” Her features turn into a scowl.

You glance at Harry and you glimpse the pride which his daughter’s words brings to his expression being swiftly replaced by apprehension when he spots Steve.

“And your daddy is right,” Steve straightens up his posture for Harry’s relief and then putting on his Captain voice, he turns to Luna again, “But Bucky and I are not boyfriends, we’re buddies.”

You think Sam will explode when he puts his hand over his mouth to hold back the laugh even harder.

“Maybe it’s a secret, Luna. Just like dad ́s.” Jon innocently shrugs and that’s what kills everybody’s strong will and the sound of multiple laughs bubbles into the room again.

Even Bucky has given in and sports a small but beautiful smile on his face as his head shakes slowly and warm heartedly. You smile right back at him when your eyes meet and you notice how much more at ease he seems.

“Aright, alright. You two get back here.” Harry commands.

“Ok,” Luna answers and starts to move towards the party again, but not before she laces her chubby little hand with Bucky’s metal one to pull him with her, being followed close by her brother.

When he looks back at you, being pulled by the girl, there’s no plea for help or embarrassment on his face; he only keeps smiling and shrugs. Your stomach flutters inside you as you take a deep breath in. 

Luna makes Bucky sit in the middle of her and Jon, as you sit where you were before, beside Harry, placing the little unicorn between you and him. Everyone catches on conversations or eating and drinking.

“Oh, Bucky. Have you met Harry, already?” You ask, trying to act cool, especially about the fact he has seen him before at Steve’s party and not mentioning all the times Bucky has asked you about your relationship with Harry.

“Hey,” Bucky nods and extends a hand, leaning over to catch Harry’s from across the cloth, “We’ve seen each other before, but I think we haven’t been introduced yet.” He says, pressing his lips in a polite smile.

“Hi, yeah, that’s right,” Harry answers in a matching polite tone, “It’s such a pleasure, I’m a huge fan, of course. I’m sorry for my chipmunks-”

“Ugh, daddy.” Luna, huffs.

Before any of the grown-ups could add anything else both the kids launch on Bucky. Leave it to kids to dissipate any kind of awkward situations… 

“Is your arm heavy?” Luna leans on Bucky’s shoulder, resting her chin over her hands there.

“A bit, yes.”

“Are you strong, Mr. Bucky?” This time Jon asks from Bucky’s other side.

“Of course I am.”

“Stronger than him?” Luna cocks her head towards Steve, who snaps his look up from the checkers board.

“Sure, he’s all jacked now, but deep down he’s nothing but a skinny little angry man…”

The super soldiers make a face to each other and you chuckle.

“What about him?” Jon points at Sam.

“Kids, please…” Bucky’s eyes roll as he lets out a smug snort.

“You wish, tin can,” Sam shots a handful of pop-corn on his direction.

“And them?” Luna points at Wanda and Nat.

“Well…”

Attentive to the scene so far, you spot the red mist Wanda casually pours from her elegant hands as Nat cracks her fingers, staring blankly at Bucky.

“Definitely not.” He turns widened eyes at Luna, enticing a little giggle to come out of her lips and a laugh of you. 

“You’re not stronger than Iron Man.” Jon affirms, rather than ask.

“Hey!” Bucky playfully yelps, as the boy places his little hand on his chin, furrowing his eyebrows as if he’s concentrating real hard to come up with Bucky’s next challenger.

“Oh! Are you stronger than daddy?” He finally yells, partnering up with his sister as the two people who made her father choke on his juice that day. 

“Ahm… I don’t know-I,” Bucky fumbles with his answer as Harry keeps struggling for air.

“I know how we can find out,” Luna swiftly raises her hand, looking excitedly at Jon.

You pat Harry’s back as he coughs harder.

“Daddy can lift me and Jon on each arm, I bet you can’t.” She cocks a daring eyebrow at Bucky as Jon eagerly nods his head and gets up.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky raises his eyebrow back at her, before turning his eyes at Harry asking for permission, which is granted with a nod and a smile. Now that the latter knows Luna’s idea doesn’t involve him getting his ass kicked he seems a lot more relaxed.

Then, with an exaggerated grunt, Bucky grabs and lifts the two little creatures by their feet using only his metal hand. The squeaks and giggles bubbling out of their lungs mingle with Bucky’s groans as he tosses the twins around as if they weigh nothing.

“Who’s the strongest person in this room, huh?” He challenges, as he holds them by their behinds and presses them into the air as a couple of dumbbells in each hand. 

“You, Mr. Bucky,” They both yell in unison between little screams and loud giggles.

Your heart melts and the smile on your face is wide when you realize that, just like that, he also becomes their favorite person in the room. You totally get it, who can be better judges of character than kids? Besides, falling in love with Bucky is that easy and inevitable, you’re one to talk…

The kids keep themselves glued on Bucky’s side all the time, asking questions, proposing games that he promptly accepts, offering him food, telling him stories about themselves and about their father – to Harry’s very dismay… They even get him to show them part of his arm, gaining claps of admiration from Luna.

At some point you reach for the jar of juice to find it empty, but before you even think of standing up to go grab some more, you feel the jar being promptly stolen from your hand.

“I got this,” Bucky winks, getting up, as Sam and Nat finally get a bit of the kids attention, doing some magic trick with a few cards for them as Harry watches.

“It’s ok, Bucky-”

“Na-ha. You stay comfortably there.” He gets up, glaring at you to show he means business.

You let out an annoyed huff – only a stunt to hide how you’re secretly loving the attention coming from him. Wanda calls on your bullshit aiming you a teasing smile that you choose to not indulge.

“Steve, get your lazy ass here and help,” Bucky calls, walking inside the kitchen, as the kids giggle at his choice of words.

~~~

Bucky places the jar on the sink and, before he could walk to the fridge to grab more oranges to squeeze, a wall of enhanced muscles captures him in an impossibly tight hug.

“Ugh, what’s that for, punk?” He grunts, but promptly hugs his friend back.

“You’re gonna be a dad,” Steve croaks out. 

Bucky lets out a quiet laughter. He hadn’t seen Steve yet, not after the ultrasound when Bucky’s real feelings towards the news became clear. He guesses his friend wasn’t really sure of what his decision would be to actually congratulate him and express his emotions about it before, “And you’re gonna be an uncle.” Bucky beams.

Steve only whimpers and tightens the hold around his friend. 

“Alright, alright,” Bucky pats his back and let goes. “This is why everybody thinks we’re a couple.” He adds, without taking the smile off his face.

Steve chuckles and shakes Bucky by his shoulder, with his eyes clearly red, the Captain wipes a tear with the back of his hand “You deserve this,“ he says.

No more words need to be said as Bucky’s smile falls but his eyes remain soft and he only nods as an answer. The two friends exchange meaningful and watery gazes before they move to go grabbing the oranges and the necessary utensils, forming a team side by side by the sink to slice the fruits and squeeze the juice using the squeezer. 

“I know Y/N has banned you from telling anyone what you two are having, but you won’t deny this information to your oldest pal here, are you?” Steve nudges Bucky as he slices the oranges.

“By the image on the screen, it sure looked like a kid.” Bucky keeps squeezing the oranges, unaffected.

“Ah, come on, Buck.”

“Not a chance, pal. If I didn´t give in to Nat, you won’t make me talk, either.” He turns to Steve, “And stop with the damn puppy eyes, you’ll have to wait, like everyone else.”

“Spoilsport,” Steve grunts his displeasure of being kept in the shadows about the baby’s sex before the smile comes back to his face, “You´re happy, aren´t you?” He softly asked after taking a good look at his friend.

“Like I’ve never thought I would be. Not even back in our days. It’s funny…” Bucky’s eyebrows furrow as a small breathy laugh comes out of his lips, “A couple of days ago I had no idea this kind of feeling, this sweet agonizing happiness, existed. Now it’s all I feel, all the time.”

“Sounds intense,” Steve chuckles, clearly pleased, “You and Y/N? What’s the deal with the two of you now?”

Bucky clears his throat and bites the insides of his cheeks, “We agreed we should focus on the baby. Let go of what happened before in the past.” He keeps his eye focused on the task of squeezing oranges.

“Oh…and how ́s that working out for you?”

“Good”

Steve stops what he’s doing altogether and turns to face Bucky, placing the hand holding the knife on his side, “Are you lying? Is this something we do now? Lie to each other?” He waves the knife on the space between them, “You couldn’t even be around her before, it can ́t be changed all of a sudden.”

Bucky shakes his head as he huffs. The damn punk… “It’s… I don´t know,” He turns to face Steve as well, “A mix of heaven and hell. Fighting with her was easier, to be honest.” He snickers, “I could handle that. And now, we talk, actually talk without fighting or anything… I get to be around her without jumping on each other’s throat and now I can really, really see her. She’s still her but, I don’t know…different,” He turns back to the sink, grabbing another half orange to squeeze as he talks, “She seems more content, level headed, elegant…” He sighs, “She looks even more beautiful each day that passes… fucking sexier…” His whisper is barely audible as his eyelids close for a moment, “It must be the pregnancy, I don ́t know, haven’t you noticed it?” He looks back at Steve to find the latter holding back a smile.

“Seems the same good old Y/N for me,” Steve shrugs, “Maybe a little more… joyful?” He asks himself, “Yeah, but what do I know, I ́m not in love with her.” He resumes slicing the oranges, acting nonchalantly.

“Stop it.” Bucky glares at him.

Steve throws his arms to the air and scrunches up his chin as a sign of resignation.

After a few moments more of silence as they work together, Bucky briskly stops and turns to his friend again, “It’s just, it’s complicated,” His eyes shut as he scratches his eyebrow, “With the baby, and all.” He sighs, looking down, “I don´t wanna ruin the peace we’re finally achieving between us by trying again with her, but God…” He looks up to the ceiling before and his eyes close before he looks down at Steve, who has stopped his work to pay attention on the man beside him, “I have to physically restrain myself from kissing the fuck out of her every time I lay my eyes on her, every time she comes closer and I smell her perfume…goddammit…” He confesses for the first time out loud, before turning to the sink to lean his hands on the marble taking in a deep breath, “She said we didn ́t work as a couple, and she’s right, isn’t she…” He murmurs. 

Steve places a kind hand on his shoulder, “I know the way it ended was rough and then everything else that happened after that, but everyone could see how you two loved each other, Bucky…” He softly says as Bucky remains silent, staring down, “And I don ́t know, you both seem like growing from the place you’ve been, when you’ve hurt each other…”

Silence lingers between them as Bucky feels his jaw clenching. He loves you. Of course he does, he always has and everything he did to try and deny this only resulted in pain. And that’s what scares the shit out of him. He knows you two agreed on trying to not focus on each other as anything more than parents, and as much as he agreed on it, the all-consuming love he feels for you only grows each day he stays at your side, each time he talks to you and he watches you becoming the mother of his child…

Fuck, he doesn’t want to ruin everything. Not again. 

“Buck, everything will be alright, I’m sure,” Steve seems to hear his thoughts as he tries to comfort him.

Bucky forces a smile at his effort and squeezes the last orange, before wiping his hand with a knapping hung on the wall. Giggles coming from the living room catches their attention.

“Do you think there’s something there,” Bucky tentatively asks, eyes stuck on the door that leads to the living room, “With Harry, I mean.” He clarifies in a low voice, when his eyes meet Steve’s. 

Steve sighs before shrugging, his forehead creasing, “They seem close.” 

Bucky nods slowly, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, “I heard his little girl, Luna, asking if Y/N was the girl he’s been-” He sulks down a harsh intake of breath, “I wouldn’t blame him…” His lips form a taut line.

When Steve presents him with silence and something that resembles empathy in his eyes for him – old Steve Rogers’s style- Bucky clears his throat and moves to pour the juice on the Jar.

“Come on, I’m gonna say goodbye to them, I have to go.” He adds, turning towards the door with the Jar in his hand.

“Where to?” Steve cocks his head, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m gonna meet Anna in a few.” Bucky mutters as his shoulders round downwards, “I called her yesterday.”

“Oh.”

“You think I shouldn’t.” Bucky states. 

“No, not at all.” Steve shakes his head. “I just wasn’t expecting to hear this now after-” Steve licks his lips and nods once, “I do think you should talk to her, though, Bucky. Set things straight. I know how important she’s been to you and I know it hurts you how things played out between the two of you. Now that you cleared your head a bit, maybe it’s the right time to really listen to her and tell her how you feel, too.”

Steve… always the voice of reason. Of his reason.

“I know.” Bucky nods. He needs to set things straight once and for all.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky meets Anna.

Bucky takes a long sip from the coffee. The drink sliding hot and thick down his throat. It’s never been this way. The air has never felt so heavy when he was around Anna. But now, sitting on the couch of her living room while he drinks from the coffee she politely offered him, he feels nothing but on edge. Unspoken words and unshared feelings weighing between them as he spots her fidgety fingers beside him on the other end of the couch. 

He clears his throat after placing his cup back on the coffee table, “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

Her eyes lift from her hands to him, almost as she’s startled by his voice cutting through the uncomfortable silence, “Of course, I have actually been meaning to call you before, but…” She licks her lips and shrugs, “I didn’t know if it was ok.”

Bucky nods before he presses his upper lip between his teeth, suddenly finding the cup of coffee in front of him very interesting. God, why is this so hard? He’s been thinking about a lot of things to say to her but now the words don’t seem to reach his senses. He sucks in a courage breath, “Listen, Anna, I-”

“Can I talk first?” She swiftly interrupts him, “Please?” She says steadily, but by the way her lips twitch as if she’s holding them from trembling and how she keeps rubbing and fidgeting with her hands it’s obvious that steadiness is far away from her true emotions.

“Ok,” he mumbled, actually relieved for not having to be the first one to talk.

Her chest heaves as she breathes deeply and turns her body towards him, tucking a leg under the other. She takes a moment looking down before speaking, saying each word carefully, “This past month I didn’t see you… I had plenty of time to think. I started seeing my therapist again, and I was able to understand things from a different perspective.” Her jaw is tense when her eyes flick to him.

Bucky recognizes what he sees in her eyes. He has plenty of it. Regret. He has seen it there before, when he last talked to her, but then there were too many feelings boiling inside him, - not all of them pretty - for him to really care about it. Now…he does. Steve was right. Anna is important to him and he needs to set things right with her.

“No one has ever made me feel like you did, Bucky.” She continues. “I fell for you hard.” A sad smile twists her lips, as Bucky keeps his eyes trained on her in silence. “I tried to fight it, because I knew you loved someone else.” Her throat visibly moves as she swallows and blinks, eyes flicking momentarily to side.

Bucky shifts in his seat, spotting the single tear running down her cheek which she quickly wipes with a finger. 

“But I’ve never really pondered the implications of the fact that, before everything, I was your therapist and you had trusted me with your mind.” She whispers, letting her gaze fall. 

“Anna…” Bucky tries when she pauses.

“The only thing on my mind, Bucky,” She resumes, looking up at him and he let her talk, because he can see it in her voice, her whole demeanor - tense and restless- how much she needs to. “Was that I knew exactly what you needed and that I could provide it to you.” She lets out a scoff, shaking her head bitterly, “But the thing is, at some point, what I thought it was good for you started to convert into what I thought was good for me. With what I wanted for myself.”

Shame crosses through her face as she puckers her mouth and her eyes drop. He becomes aware of how tightly his grip is on his thighs through his jeans. His chest is heavy with something that feels like… sorrow. 

“When I saw an opportunity to live that overwhelming, wonderful feeling with you, I didn’t think twice.” She doesn’t look up at him to talk, “I didn’t consider the possible consequences, not for you, and not for me. And then I caught myself doing things I never thought I would, like… lying to you… creating situations I thought would favor us as a couple, I… I lost myself into loving you and it was my fault.” Her watery gaze finds his again before she whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Bucky.” 

Bucky sighs. Letting a deep intake of air fill his lungs before he shifts his position to face her, moving slowly to sit closer to her on the sofa. “Anna, I’ve been thinking a lot too,” He confesses, “And I owe you apologies, as well.” The corner of his mouth curls downwards and she frowns at him. “You told me that when you signed me up to another professional you had just realized you’d started developing feelings for me and all the time we’ve remained close after that, not once you tried to act on them. I had no clue about how you felt until Y/N blurted it out to me.” He scoots closer and take her hand between his, feeling how cold her skin is.

Her eyes follow his gesture, stopping at their joined hands.

“You only confessed them when I ran to you after that mission and I was the one to make a move on you, Anna. I did so knowing I was still too caught up on Y/N, there was still a lot to figure out with her, and I jumped into a relationship with you to run away from it.” The regret sweeps into his voice and cut through his guts as their eyes meet, “You said you didn’t ponder the consequences, but I’m the one who started this without pondering them myself. When I talked to Y/N about us the day after we decided to get together, she said I would hurt you and I did. I did hurt you.” 

“I knew what I was getting into, Bucky.” She squeezes his hand. The drops of tears running down her cheeks expressing how his words are painful to her.

He smiles. Sadly. “You were only being guided by the way you felt for me and I feel like I took advantage of that. Of you.” His teeth clench to the point it becomes painful, “I’m really sorry.” He finally says the words which he’s taken this past month to realize he owed her.

She looks down at their hands and gently places her other one on top of his. “I’m sorry, too” Her voice is teary and croaky.

An instant of stillness takes place between them, as they both take in their apologies and then just nod at each other, expressing with the simple gesture the mutual forgiveness.

“Bucky,” She calls quietly, “Do you feel like we would’ve worked out if things were different? Did you feel something for me at some point? When you touched me,” Her finger caresses his skin softly, “When I kissed you, when we… when we slept together?” She directs her pained and pleading look at him.

“Anna…” Bucky breathes, “You’re so important to me.” He pours all his sincerity in his voice. It’s essential to him that she knows this, “When I looked for you that night, when we opened up about our feelings, I really thought I could love you the way I…” His breath caught in his throat, “I care so much about you. But not in the way you expected me to. Not in the way you deserve.” He knows he didn’t really answer her question, but how could he tell her that when he kissed her, when he had her between his arms, when he had her on his bed, he always ended up with you on his mind? He’s such a fucking jerk. He knows this. But he doesn’t have to make the pain he sees on her face even harder.

Her forehead creases as she moves her gaze downwards and lets out the air that was trapped in her lungs, “Not in the way you love Y/N.” She affirms, as if reading his mind.

He doesn’t say anything to that, because there’s nothing more that has to be said. He would only lie or hurt her further with the truth. He wants none. 

“Have you two talked?” She mumbles out her question.

“Yeah.” He answers, “We, um, we decided to put everything behind us, for the sake of the baby, learning how to be parents to them is all we’re gonna focus on.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, “And do you think this is going to work out?”

“It has to”

“Bucky” She pulls away her hands from his touch before she wipes her eyes and straightens up her posture, as he lets his hands rest again on his thighs, waiting for her to speak, ”Listen, I won’t pretend this is easy for me to say. It’s not.” She shakes her head and sighs deeply before she swiftly licks her lips, “But haven’t the two of you tried to ignore your feelings for each other for long enough? I think you should talk to her about it.”

Bucky studies her. There it is. The Anna he treasured and has been so central in his life the past couple of years. The one who always said what he needed to hear, hitting right into where would make him see things how they really were… Also, he has heard something familiar before… He chuckles, filling the gesture with fondness.

“What?” She frowns.

“She said almost the same thing. About you. That I should talk to you.” He clarifies with an amused soft tone in his voice. 

“Oh,” Her brows wiggle as she’s surprised by the information, after her expression becomes sullen, “I still need to apologize to her. Maybe someday I could talk to her, but not right now.” She shakes her head swiftly.

Bucky doesn’t argue with that. He’s happy he’s finding his own peace with Anna, but he doesn’t know how a whole new encounter between her and you could affect you and he wants nothing but to keep you safe and sound from any kind of distress. 

“She doesn’t blame you about the accident, and I don’t either.” Bucky props an elbow on the backrest of the sofa, leaning forward, “Not anymore. I shouldn’t have acted that way, but…” He looks to the side and sighs. He knows he shouldn’t have blamed her, but at the time all he thought was about his baby and what could’ve happened.

“But you’re a dad now. And it was your baby safety at stake.” She states, making him turn to her and see an understanding look aimed at him, “Are you happy with the baby, I mean?”

The smile that curls up his lips comes out easily, just like every time his baby is mentioned, “So much.”

Anna smiles back, “I’m happy for you, really. You’ll be the best dad in the world. No doubt about it.” She reaches out and takes his hand into hers again.

Bucky gazes at the touch, his chest feeling lighter, just like his mind. He feels like he’s finding his way back to Anna again. To the Anna he cherished the friendship and company, before he ruined everything by trying to change it.

“Anna…” He says her name softly, “We have made mistakes, I know I’ve made tons of them, but like I said, you ́re so important to me… I would really like having you in my life.”

“You want me in your life as what, Bucky?” She doesn’t say this in a scolding way, instead there ́s gentleness and a hint of sadness in her voice as she tightens the hold on his hand. “A friend? A lover? A therapist? It doesn’t matter because I can’t be any of that. I still love you, Bucky.” A new tear falls down her face when she makes the confession with a pained smile on her lips as Bucky keeps his eyes on her, gulping down the lump of emotions on his throat, “So much. And not in the way you say you care about me. I really love you. Being around you without you loving me back…” She takes in a shuddering breath as her eyes close for a second, “It’s too painful.”

Bucky uses a finger to gently and slowly wipe a tear from her face as his other hand keeps enlaced with hers. He can sense how she holds back to not lean into his touch.

“I’ve neglected my feelings before, when my love was still a secret, but I can’t do this anymore.” She bites her inner cheek, “I need to work on myself. To understand my emotions and, hopefully, learn how to move on, how to live past my feelings for you. I need space and time to do that, at least for now. I hope you understand.” She holds his gaze with expectant eyes.

“I do.” He nods once and truthfully, “You´re right.” He agrees, “I just need you to know I do care about you and whatever you need of me for you to be ok, I’m in.”

A relieved breath slips out her lips, “Thank you, Bucky.”

They keep talking for another thirty minutes, tops; before he decides it’s time to leave, to what she shows no resistance.

“Bucky,” She pulls his hand before he walks out the door.

She smiles tightly at him when their gazes meet.

“Please,” She says, “Try to be happy. I need you to.”

He locks his eyes on hers when he brings her knuckles to his lips and place a kiss on them, “You, too, Anna… You, too.”

~~~

Ch. 19 coming soon (ish)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey, it’s me. I know a lot of you wanted hell to fall upon Anna, but to be honest, I never thought her as a villain. I understand why most of you doesn’t like her but the way I see it, she’s not perfect, but she’s also a victim of her own feelings, you know what I mean? I hope the way they worked things out between them didn’t disappoint too much.


	19. Chapter 19

“Hey.” Your smile is bright as you spot Bucky walking into the Doctor Nadine ́s waiting room.

“Hi,” He smiles back. As handsome as ever. He’s been keeping his face with nothing but a light stubble lately and the little jump in your heart reminds you that, despite loving his full beard; you also have a huge soft spot for that look. Maybe it’s because the light shade enhances the outlines of his beautiful and plump lips. He’s sporting his customary outfit: white henley and dark jeans which enhances every single delightful part of him as he walks and his many, hard muscles move through the fabric.

The sting on your lips makes you notice you’re biting them as you stare at him. You blink and swiftly compose yourself as he takes a seat next to you.

“Am I late?” If he noticed your shameless gawking, he doesn’t let it show.

Goddamn those pregnant hormones, and goddamn Bucky for not helping at all by being that extraordinarily hot on a daily basis, only adding to your increasing frustration.

“Not at all. Doctor Nadine is, though.” You try to put on some nonchalance into your voice to disguise your current state of…distress.

“Here.” Only when he hands it to you, you notice the little paper bag in his hands.

Accepting the bag, you smirk and side eye him, as he shrugs. You laugh when you find in your hands a stuffed little pig, all white except for some greyish brown stamps all over it and the nose and the inside of the ears, which are pink.

“I couldn’t resist.” He looks guilty as a shy smile curls up his lips, “The clerk said it’s from a Disney movie called Moana.”

“It will look awesome next to the Unicorn.” You grin, pressing the stuffie against your cheek and relishing in its fluffiness before placing it back in the bag, “Speaking of that, the kids were pretty bummed by you leaving earlier yesterday. You have a couple of new fans.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “They’re awesome…” His lively expression falls a bit as his eyes bore into yours and he bites the inside of his cheeks, “I had to sort something out… with Anna.”

“Oh…” You still feel his eyes on you as you turn ahead at the information, averting his eyes from him. “Ok.”

You both stay quiet. The silence isn’t comfortable at all as you tap your fingers on your thigh, gripping the little bag hard in your hand. The unspoken question tugging at your tongue as dread pinches the pit of your stomach. God, you hate feeling like that.

“And did you?” You can’t hold it back anymore. “Sort things out?”

“Yeah, actually.” Bucky looks down as his eyebrows snap together, “It was a good talk.” Bucky nods, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

“Good.” You repeat his words, tightening your lips in a failed attempt of forming a smile for him, “Good, good, good…” The mumble slips out quietly from your lips as you turn your head to stare ahead, legs distractedly bouncing. 

“It was a very good chat.” Bucky talks again and you hum in acknowledgement. “We admitted our mistakes. Forgave each other.”

The sting is sharp against your chest as your heart drops to your stomach. You just nod, gulping down the lump in your throat, without once looking back at him. You shouldn’t be feeling like this… anxious… jealous… Weren’t you the very one to tell him he should talk to Anna? Listen to her? Very sensible of you, right? You fight the urge to roll your eyes at yourself right before you hear his voice again.

“It was good to close this chapter. Getting romantically involved was a mistake.”

Your face snap to him. His eyes were already on you, but you can’t quite read his guarded expression.

“We agreed on that and now we can move on.” He adds, softly. His hands linked together of his thighs.

“Oh, so you ́re not back together.” You ask as your unwise faltering heart needs a confirmation.

He simply shakes his head.

“Good.” You definitely shouldn’t sound as joyful as you do. You clear your throat and try to keep an even expression on your face, for good measure. “I mean… Are you ok?” You ask with honest worry. Despite the stupid feelings that keep making a fuzz of your chest, you know what Anna means to Bucky and, yeah, if it meant he would be happy, it would hurt you, but you would understand if they had gotten back together. 

“Yeah.” His lips curl down, “I was a jerk to her. You told me I would hurt her, and I did.” He shrugs, and you see the little bone in his throat moving as he swallows.

“Oh, Bucky, I-”

“But we’re good now.” He nods to himself, not allowing you to lie and say you really didn’t mean that. You did. It doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, but you knew in heart at the time that he would end up hurting her. Running away is never the answer. You learned this the hard way.

“Ok,” You nod, keeping the thoughts to yourself. 

His eyes meet yours and you spot the softness in them when he speaks, just as softly, “Time to move on.”

You smile at each other. A shared smile full of unspoken words. But it’s also full of history and easy and honest and it keeps plastered on your face the whole day.

~~~

A tiny kick makes you place your hand over your round stomach and smile.

“Are you waking up, peanut?” You mumble to your belly, drawing small circles over it.

You’re a little bit more than 29 weeks now and the baby has been making themselves noticeable for a few weeks already. What started out as a fluttery sensation now has turned into full kicks and jabs. A child of two Avengers, no doubt about that. You love feeling them. Well, maybe except when the little brat hits you with the force of a tiny super soldier in your ribs, which they’ve been very keen to do the last few days.

The baby is big. So damn big and heavy. 20 inches and already 7 pounds. A whole lot more than expected if they didn’t have a super DNA in them. As they develop that strong, it’s been getting more and more difficult for your body to carry the pregnancy. The appointments have been more frequent, almost daily. Doctor Nadine estimates you won’t get to the 39th or 40th week, which has been making you a bit anxious, of course. As much as you’re dying to see the little face of your peanut, a premature birth is never ideal. What makes you sleep easier at night is that Tony’s has gone over the top and there’s medical assistance available for you 24/7 at a short walking distance to the Tower’s med bay. 

You and Bucky have been discussing names. He’s been allowing you to come up with all the options so he doesn’t let the sex slip with a biased suggestion. After hours, days and weeks of research and debates, so far you’ve narrowed it down to Mary or Ava if it’s a girl and Theo or Lucas, if it’s a boy. Being one of the best spies in the world, he didn’t put on any expression or say anything that could spill the beans.

Speaking of the daddy, he’s always around, always bringing a little cute souvenirs which he absolutely couldn’t resist buying on his way over the tower. He’s still living at his little apartment in Brooklyn and whether this would change after the baby arrived or not you don’t know and, to be honest, you won’t ask. You’ve been talking and talking and talking, but nothing more than things related solely to the baby. Anything that could lead to certain topics or interpretations have been avoided. Having him around has been more than you could ever wish for and you wouldn’t handle him getting scared and running away from you again.

You’ve decided to continue living at the tower after the baby is born, for the team of uncles and aunts pure joy. It is the safest place on earth, and the floor Tony has been remodeling into a mega apartment for you is almost ready and perfect. He’s been taking care of everything and you really don’t mind. You were never one to really care about decorations and stuff and it’s his way of showing love, so you gladly accept it. Well, except for the nursery, which you and Bucky were adamant to be responsible for and have been working on the room together.

Just right now, he and Steve are applying the wallpaper you two have chosen and putting the crib together while you’re in your new kitchen, which is already done and fully functional, squeezing some fresh lemonade for the two hard workers.

After you place the Jar and the glasses on a tray, you walk towards the nursery, but what you find when you cross the opened door makes you choke on air and almost drop all the lemonade to the floor.

Bucky. Standing on a ladder. Shirtless. With his built, bare back to you as he reaches the roller up to glue the highest part of the wallpaper. His locks are trapped in one of those damn low buns of his, as droplets of sweat ran down the deepened line between the muscles of his back. Your eyes descend his body and meet his jeans hanging low, showing you a large stripe of the black boxes he has underneath.

Shit. It’s been like this now. Just the sight of him making you dizzy and most definitely… bothered. As a rush of heat washes over your core, you tell yourself it’s the damn hormones fault and, of course, you being completely sex deprived for so long, but you’re not really sure if it’s really this or the fact you have him around you almost all the time now, and having him around had always been enough to cause a number on your body reactions.

You hear an inhuman sound when he stretches his back. Your eyes widen at the realization the sound must’ve come out from you when he looks over his shoulder and spots you there: pathetically standing by the door, holding a tray with lemonade, dumbly staring at him.

He smiles and promptly climbs down the stairs, “Hey,” He greets as he drops the roller on the floor, covered by newspaper, and walks towards you, using his forearm to clean some sweat off his forehead.

Goddamn.

“Hey,” You mumble back, somewhat breathless as his broad, shirtless, sweaty figure stands in front of you. Your tongue darts out to run over your dry lips.

“So? What do you think?”

“What?” You blink.

He narrowed his eyes at you an chuckles before pointing his hand towards the walls.

“Oh.” You jump, finally taking your eyes off of him to let them roam around the room. The balloons wallpaper is neatly glued, and you can see the room turning into a nursery by his hands, “Oh, Bucky.” You sigh, already feeling tears forming in the corner of your eyes. Yeah, besides horny as fuck, you’ve been easily emotional, too. “It’s perfect.” A huge smile across your face.

His smile matches yours, “It’s almost done. Steve went to his room to grab a toolkit so we can start putting the crib together.” He nods towards the closed box on the floor behind him, before his eyes drop to the trail in your hands.

“Oh, I brought you guys some lemonade.” You lift the trail, “I figured you’d be thirsty.”

When his gaze meet yours again, you spot the change in his eyes, the blue a bit darker and a hint of amusement sparkling on them, “You have no idea.” His voice drops a note and laces you by the core.

You swallow thickly, not sure if he’s deliberately trying to drive you crazy or it’s your pregnant dirty mind making you see things.

“Ahm, h-here,” you stutter and move fast to place the trail on a worktable which is right beside you and pour him a glass, handing it to him and trying to pay no attention to the flames burning you up from the inside.

You, obviously, can’t take your eyes off of him as he thanks you with a smirk and brings it to his lips. His eyes close as he gulped down the whole glass all at once. Your gaze drops to the scars on his chest… He must’ve got them treated, because they’re light and clean, almost blending to his skin. Very different from the angry marks you used to trace your fingers on while he was sleeping, feeling him sigh deeply under your touch- 

“Hmmm, ice cold and full of sugar. Delicious.” He licks his lips and your gaze snap up to his face, taking you out from your mind filled with memories.

“Of course,” You chuckle, “That’s the right way of lemonade.” As he laughs and his eyes crinkle adorably, you spot a drop slipping from his lips and running down his jaw. You need to do something about it, don’t you? Lemon could damage his skin, after all. “Ahm, you have a… let me-” You reach to his face and he stiffens when you delicately brush your thumb over the his jaw to catch the drop. You sense the twitch on his jawbone, when, almost unconsciously, your hand cup his face and you let your thumb skim up to the corner of his lips.

You don’t know what you’re doing or why you’re doing it. All you focus is on the loud hammering of your heart as his eyes flutter close and he leans on your touch. You breathe through your parted lips and your gaze falls down to his mouth. His beautiful and rosy lips… It’s been so long since you got the chance to kiss them… 

“Ouch.” Your hand flies from Bucky’s face to your belly.

Bucky’s eyes swiftly open. For a second he seems lost, as if he’s just woken up from a dream and didn’t know exactly where he was. When he spots your hand on your belly his eyes go round, “What’s happening? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You chuckle, “The baby has kicked me. They’ve been doing this a lot, but it has never felt so strong-ah-” You gasp and laugh as your eyebrows draw together when the little one hits another heavy strike.

“Oh,” Bucky breathes, looking down at your belly as pure awe takes over his face. When he glances up to you, his eyes is evidently glowing with expectancy, “C-can I?” He hesitantly asked, raising his hand in direction of your belly just as timidly.

When you nod and takes your hand from your stomach to allow him to touch it, he immediately places the empty glass of lemonade on the worktable and steps closer to you. Not until that day Bucky had asked to touch your belly… The gentle touch of his hand through your dress is almost too much as the electricity runs down your spine unbidden and makes your heart race.

“Here.” Taking in a shuddering breath, you place your hand over his to slowly move it to the right spot where he would be able to feel the baby. He’s so close to you… so close.

“I-I can’t feel anything.” The disappointment is evident in his voice and in the small pout that follows.

“Ahm, why don’t try talking to them?” You suggest and he glances up at you, “It usually works for me.” You shrug.

His eyes narrow and he smiles tightly after focusing on your belly again. Your hand still covering his.

“What should I say?” He whispers.

“Um, why don’t start with “hello “”?

“Ok…” He nods before taking in a deep sigh, “Hello, my baby.” He murmurs softly and carefully strokes your belly, “I’m your daddy.”

Just like that, as if it had been planned out, you feel the kick. Bucky promptly lets out a breathy smile.

“It was a big one. Did you feel it?” You ask, quietly, trying hard to not ruin their moment.

He nods quickly, his lips pressed hard against one another. As his gaze remains down, yours remain on him. His forehead almost touches yours and you try to breathe. The magic you had experienced moments before enveloping the both of you again. The three of you, actually. 

“I can’t wait to see you,” He keeps talking to your baby and it kicks again, “I love you so much already, my baby.” The blue of his watery eyes meet yours, “Our baby.”

Your melt under his words as you sulk in a breath and nod, “Our baby.” Your hand tightens the grip on his as the warmth of a single tear runs down your cheek.

Every single one of your days, you spend trying to suppress, deny and bury the feelings, the stubborn and immeasurable love you have for him. The love you once felt so afraid of…Because it’s the right thing to do. It’s what’s best for you, but most importantly it’s what’s best for him… You’re not afraid of this love anymore… You haven’t been afraid of it for a long time now. But he is. He is and what you’re afraid of is he’ll run away from it, from you…

Every day is a fight against your feelings, sometimes you lose, others you win. Today…one simple touch and the fight is slipping off your grasp… 

His right hand doesn’t move from where he feels your baby saying hello to him, while you shudder at the cold sensation of metal meeting your middle before his arm circle your waist, pulling you closer to him as the warmth of his body rolls off to yours. Your legs turn into jelly and you’re grateful for his hold keeping you stand. He drops his forehead to yours and all you have to do is move one inch and you would be able to feel the taste of him again, after so long…

“Bucky…” You whisper, as your eyes flutter.

“Hey, pal. I think this will do it-”

You could feel the soft brush of Bucky’s lips on yours before you quickly let go of him, ceasing any kind of contact as Steve bursts into the room. 

“Ahm, am I interrupting anything?” Steve asks, frozen in place with the toolkit in hands, after an uncomfortable silence settled in the room.

From the corner of your eyes, you spot Bucky, with hands on each side of his waist and head hanging low as his chest heavies, “No, of course not.” You put on a smile for a skeptical Steve, “I was just here to bring you two some lemonade. There it is.” You point to the jar, “Help yourself, Steve. Ahm, I – I gotta go to the bathroom, my bladder is the size of a marble, now, you know? I’ll come back later for the tray.” You cringe rushing to the way out without taking a breath to spill the words, or sparing another glance at Bucky before you leave the room.

Today, you lost.

~~~  
Thanks for reading. Just so you know, I'm a sucker for feedback. 

Ch. 20 coming soon(ish)


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